No Regrets, No Looking Back, No WhatIfs
by M2S
Summary: COMPLETE! NickSara: friends with benefits post GD. What happens when one of them may have the chance at love with another? Angsty torture.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own them. At all.

A/N: This is a sequel to a post Grave Danger story I wrote called "Tangled Sheets". So if you haven't read that one, here's a little background:

Sara and Nick have established a "friends with benefits" relationship that helps them deal with the nightmares of their jobs, him specifically after being buried alive. Their rules are: no regrets, no looking back and no what-ifs.

Now I am going to continue trying my hand at angst while Nick and Sara break the rules.

* * *

Nick wove through the late night Vegas traffic to get back to the lab. Of course, in Vegas, this was prime time. Things were as close to "back to normal" as he thought they would ever get. He was working on cases solo again and he was sleeping more easily than before, even when Sara wasn't in his bed.

Sara. The thought of her brought an unconscious smile to Nick's tired face. She had become his best friend in the past few months. As she said, she was his "friend with benefits". She always said that phrase in a specific, eyebrow arched way. Nick could hear the quotation marks around the phrase when she said it. It made him chuckle every time.

It had happened unexpectedly, but when Nick thought about it, they had enjoyed a flirtatious chemistry from the beginning. Sara had proven a surprisingly aggressive and adventurous partner, in all ways. They had been hang-gliding and rock climbing in the last month. Nick had suddenly wanted to prove that he was back to his old self, though it wasn't totally true. He still felt the need to meet Sara at her apartment, or at the diner some mornings when she got off shift. He would fill the hours between his shift and hers with a hundred things. He never admitted to Catherine, or even Warrick, how scared he got, but those mornings when they would lie in a bed, his or hers, shadowed by the blackout curtains or blinds, he would murmur his day to Sara. He would leave some of his fears unspoken, but she always seemed to know what he left out. She never advised; she only listened and helped him medicate the pain with her voice, her smell, her touch, and her feel.

Some mornings he wouldn't be waiting on her. He did this more as self-discipline than anything, because if he allowed himself to, he would have her to himself every morning. Then he would never have to face any nightmares alone. So the days when he was feeling good, or at least, not wiped out or fearful, he wouldn't wait on her. He would go and play basketball with Warrick, or workout, or whatever. Sometimes he would even go home and catch a nap, or lazy his way through a movie or a book. But come 9:00 am, if he hadn't heard from her, he would call her cell.

He would be able to tell from her voice whether she needed him. Because that was the part that made this whole messed up relationship, friendship work. She needed him as well.

"Tough shift?" he would ask, and she would either chuckle, or she would sigh. If she sighed, he knew what she would say next.

"Do you want to come over?" or "Can I come over?"

He would never tell her "no".

What totally surprised him was how they could, over several months, sleep together and hang out on a regular basis and none of the trained CSI's noticed. Even Greg, who was with Sara on a lot of cases, hadn't thought anything was going on.

"I'm glad you and Sara are hanging out some," he had told Nick in the locker room one evening. Nick was leaving and Greg was coming in. Nick had only raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, she needs a friend, and she doesn't seem the type of woman to have a lot of close girlfriends. So, I guess that makes you her girlfriend," Greg had joked.

"Well, it's been good for me," Nick said, enigmatically. Greg had just laughed. There was nothing in his tone to suggest that he thought anything other than friendship was going on between Nick and Sara. Everyone just thought they had become closer since Nick's unfortunate incident.

Nick was planning on surprising her. He wanted to go camping for a weekend. Hike some trails, play in the lake and let nature surround them. He had thought twice about asking her, but then, figured it wouldn't be a big deal. Who else would he take but his best bud? They could even sleep in separate tents or sleeping bags. Like that would happen.

Even now, after months of going along like this, he was surprised at how little he could resist touching her when they were alone. How had he resisted all that time they had worked together on cases? They had made themselves a promise in the beginning. "No regrets, no looking back, no what ifs". But Nick had found himself breaking the rules.

What if Sara were a girl he was dating? If he had ever dated someone he got along with this well, he would be asking her to move in by now. He probably would have called down to Dallas to see if his great-grandmother's diamond ring was cleaned and ready for Christmas.

But they weren't a couple. They had made that plain. Sara didn't even have a shelf in his bathroom cabinet or a drawer in his dresser for her clothes. There was nothing in his shower that indicated she regularly shampooed, soaped, or anything else.

And of course, there was the question of love. He loved Sara. They were friends, and you love your friends. Did he love her like his dad loved his mom? The way his oldest sister loved her husband? Nick figured if he had to ask himself, he probably didn't. He didn't even want to think about how Sara would laugh at the question if it were posed to her.

If friendship and sex were all it took to make a happy living arrangement, he and Sara seemed to have it. What if that was all it took? Nick was breaking the rules again. He smiled and pulled into the lab parking lot. There was nothing about his relationship with Sara that was normal, but it was the one thing that had really helped him return to that comfortable state. Praise God for small miracles.

Warrick was in the DNA lab chatting up a slightly annoyed Mia when Nick walked by. He stopped and poked his head in.

"You up for ball today?" he asked. Warrick nodded.

"You know it. And I am going to wipe the court with you, as usual," he said casually. Mia smiled and rolled her eyes at the two.

"Don't let him fool you," Nick said to her. "I kick his butt every time." He nearly bounced out of the lab and ran into Catherine.

"Someone's in a good mood," Catherine said as they walked towards trace. She patted his arm. "I'm really glad you're back to yourself," she said in a quiet voice.

"Me too," he replied, and gave her a high wattage smile. "Hey, I've got a couple of days of vacation coming up next weekend. Is that still cool?" he asked, dropping off his samples and logging them in. Catherine logged hers in as well.

"Looking good right now," she said. She winked at him as he strode towards the locker room. He was singing low and off key in the locker room when a familiar hand patted his back.

"Hello stranger," Sara said and opened her own locker. She smiled shyly at him, which was crazy considering what they had been doing a mere 13 or 14 hours before. Nick smiled back and thought about asking her right there about the camping trip.

"Hello yourself," he responded, getting his backpack out and hanging up his vest. He had already changed into his shorts and a sleeveless shirt in the men's showering area. "Did you sleep good?" he asked. He had left her in her own bed earlier in the afternoon.

"Yes, actually. I seem to get at least three good nights of sleep a week," she said, giving him a sultry look.

"Damn it, girl," he said, feeling himself respond to her look. Though he hadn't had a rough shift, and he was actually feeling pretty good, he thought about telling her that it had been crap. Self-discipline, he reminded himself.

"Tough shift?" she asked. She was standing too close to him for them to be in the wide-open locker room where anyone could walk in. "You look like you feel good," she said, smiling at him.

"What if I told you looks could be deceiving?" he asked quietly. The desire to pull her close to him was strong. Just a few hours, he told himself.

"I would say you were trying to get me into …" she started, only to be interrupted by Greg's cheerful voice.

"Good evening, my fellow CSI's. Another beautiful night to traipse about Vegas in an effort to find evidence, solve crimes, and put criminals behind bars," he said, be-bopping his way to his locker. Nick and Sara had stepped a little further apart, sharing a smile between them.

"You're in a good mood G," Nick said. He tied his shoes, trying to think about playing basketball with Warrick instead of fooling around with Sara.

"Of course," Greg said, looking in the mirror he had hanging on his locker door. He smiled at his reflection and turned to his friends. "I get to be chauffeured around by the lovely Ms. Sidle and schooled in the finer points of criminal investigation by said same woman. Why wouldn't I be in a good mood?"

"That's true, Greggo, that's true," Nick said, laughing at the younger man's cheerful nature and Sara's eye roll at Greg.

"What about you Nick? It looks like you and Warrick are playing ball. Are you about ready for a rematch with Sara and me?" he asked. He pretended to be shooting a basketball into the net.

"Only if I get Sara on my team this time," Nick said. Greg frowned in mock hurt. Neither he nor Sara had been experienced at playing basketball, but they hadn't been too bad, he thought.

"That hurts man," Greg said and waved as he walked out of the locker room. Sara smiled and closed her locker. Nick grabbed her arm.

"Call me," he said. She just smiled a sultry smile.He watched as she walked out of the locker room. Warrick walked in and quirked an eyebrow at Nick.

"That look," he said. "You look like a kid who is very serious about licking the icing off a cupcake."

"What?" Nick asked, incredulous. He shook his head. "You aren't going to mess with my head. Man, it's all about the ball."

Warrick laughed, but Nick wondered if he had been wrong to think no one suspected.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Don't own them.

A/N: Thanks for following with me.

* * *

Sara and Greg met their shift mates and received assignments. Grissom and Greg were to work on a burglary and Sophia pulled a hit and run. Grissom handed Sara an assignment with an odd look in his eye. She read the particulars. She caught Grissom by the arm and he waved Greg on. 

"This is a rape and attempted murder," Sara said. She said it as a question. Grissom nodded. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Sara, if you feel like you're getting overwhelmed, page me. I trust you'll do the right thing," he said. Then he walked out, leaving her both apprehensive and elated at the same time. It confounded her that she still felt like she needed his approval. That was why she was so elated, because Grissom thought she was capable. Well, she was capable, and she would just have to prove it. Not to Grissom, but to herself.

"Who give a flying frig what Grissom thinks," she said to herself. And she was almost convinced.

Brass was at the scene with a detective Sara hadn't seen before. Brass smiled when he saw her alone.

"Where's the boy wonder?" Jim asked. Sara wondered if that made her Batman, or Batgirl, whatever.

"He's working with Grissom tonight," Sara responded. Brass smiled a small, proud smile and gave her a wink. She returned his smile in full.

"Well, then Sara, let's meet a new detective," he said. He turned to his companion, a tall, trim man who looked to be in hisforties. Sara looked over at him. He had smiling green eyes and dark blond hair that was graying at the temples. His skin was dark and slightly weathered, as if he had spent too many days in the sun. He had a white, straight smile, and the lines on his face indicated that he had smiled a lot. He was chewing gum, and when Sara walked closer and extended her hand, she could smell the spicy hints of cinnamon he was exhaling.

"I'm Det. Oscar Perrin," he said, grasping her extended hand in both of his. Despite his effusive manner, his grip was gentle on her hand.

"Sara Sidle, with the lab," she said, as if it wasn't obvious by the vest that declared her to be "Forensics" and the kit at her feet. For some reason, meeting this new detective was putting her a little off balance. She attributed it to working a case alone once again.

"Det. Perrin is joining us from LA. He worked vice and homicide there," Jim said.

"Great. Nice to have you with us, Detective," Sara said. She was beginning to itch to get into the crime scene. "So what have we got here?" she asked.

"We have an attempted rape and murder. Victim is one Anna Gilead, aged 25. She's a cocktail waitress at the Tangiers. Her boyfriend, Todd McCall, found her and called the cops. He thought she was dead. When responding officers got here, she turned out to be alive. They called EMS."

"Why did you say attempted rape?" Sara asked. They had walked to the door of the house and stepped under the crime scene tape.

"The boyfriend said he thinks he interrupted whoever was in the house. He heard the back door slam. His girlfriend was in the bedroom, unknown to him. He gave chase to the perp, lost him, and came back to the house. That's when he found the girl. He claims her underwear was barely pulled down, so he assumes he interrupted." The man's accent kept giving Sara pause.

"You sound like you've spent time near San Francisco," she said. The detective smiled.

"Only someone who knows the area would place my accent," he said. "I grew up and spent my formative policing years around San Francisco. You?"

"Yeah. I moved away to attend college, then went back until I moved out here about five years ago," she said. His smile was contagious and she found herself grinning back at him. She had never met such a happy homicide detective.

"So, are we positive it wasn't the boyfriend?" she asked. The detective narrowed his eyes and looked at Sara.

"I thought that was part of your job, to help me figure it out," he said. His suspicious look morphed into another grin and Sara found herself laughing with him.

"I guess you are right," she said, and began to work. Det. Perrin watched as she got started, then moved into another area of the house.

She printed and bagged evidence from all over the house, focusing on the bedroom, wondering if the girl was going to make it and what kind of statement the boyfriend would give.

She concentrated on the bedroom, but she printed and collected evidence from all over the house. The back door yielded some very smudged prints. She hoped they would help.

By the time she was finished, she had nearly exhausted her supply of evidence bags. She had gotten used to having someone else with her. The thought of having to start stocking up on more bags and gear for solo cases made her smile inwardly.

"So, how many trips to your Denali is it going to take for all this?" a voice called from the doorway. It made Sara jump. "Sorry," Perrin said. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't scare me. You, uh, startled me," Sara said. She didn't like the little bit of petulance she could hear when she said it.

"You know, I've always wanted to know what the difference is," he said back to her. Then he reached down and grabbed a few of her bags. "I've got to go to the hospital and check on the vic. You want to ride with me? You can get her clothes and take the pictures you need," he offered. Sara didn't know why, but she wasn't sure about riding with the new detective. Had it been Brass, she would have gone, no questions asked. Cavaliere would have never offered, and Vartan she would have rode with just to look at those eyes.

"Well, I really should get these bags to the lab. I could just meet you," she said.

"Cool. I haven't had a tour of the lab yet," the detective said, helping her load the evidence bags in the SUV. She had meant to meet him at the hospital, but he was still grinning at her, so she didn't correct her.

"So just follow me there," Sara said. The detective agreed and walked to his own car. She imagined that he was smiling all the way.

Perrin helped Sara carry the bags of evidence into the lab. Sara could feel all eyes on them as they walked past reception and into the core of the lab. Judy, the receptionist, gave them a small smile, though Sara could have sworn it was bigger for the new detective.

Why not? He was ahandsome man, and though he was in his mid-forties, he was well built. She had decided that he looked very much like a surfer in his later years, and given that he had spent the last years in LA, that could be the case. Plus, he was fresh meat, and knowing the girls in and around the lab, word would get out fast that LVPD had a new member. Sara wondered briefly how Catherine would react to him.

As they went through the lab, Sara introduced Perrin to the techs and told him a little about each invidual lab. He seemed especially impressed by the A/V lab. Sara had taken him by there on the way out. He and Archie found themselves in a deep conversation about ... Farscape. Sara had never watched it, though she had heard it was very good, mainly from Archie. She tended to watch movies when she was alone, though she was sure to TIVO Lost from week to week. When she and Nick were together, it was usually Discovery, Animal Planet or the History channel. Many times they never made it to the end of the program.

That thought gave her pause and she looked at her watch. 6 AM already, and she knew Nicky would call by 9 AM. She couldn't really say this had been a tough shift, though the hospital might make a difference. The thoughts of cuddling up with a warm Nick Stokes were always tempting. On nights like tonight, when she didn't feel the desperate need to cling to him, or when she knew he didn't feel that same need, she tried to keep herself from going to him. It was hard, too hard for her liking, and that was exactly why she resisted. Sooner or later, she knew that Nicky would meet someone, and this little thing they had would be over.

"Well, I see we have bored Ms. Sidle. I know we still need to go to the hospital," Perrin was saying. She forced asmile; glad that he didn't know the real reason she was looking at her watch. Perrin and Archie said their goodbyes and he and Sara began walking back out to their vehicles. Sara's head was still slightly distracted by thoughts of Nick when she realized Det. Perrin was speaking to her.

"I'm sorry, I was zoned out on the ... evidence," she said, stumbling to cover. "What was that?"

"I wanted to know if you wanted to take my car or yours," he said good-naturedly. "Man, I am really off my game tonight, boring a lovely lady twice within three minutes." He sighed forlornly and gave her a hangdog look so fake she had to laugh. "Considering that the best way to learn a new town is to drive it, I would prefer to take mine," he said.

For some reason, Sara couldn't help but agree.

The staff at Desert Palms was always good about keeping and tagging evidence on cases, and this was no exception. The clothing Anna Gilead had been wearing was bagged and tagged, along with nail scrapings. The rape kit would be sent separately as it wasn't quite ready. Sara would need hair and DNA samples from the young woman. Fingerprints were in the system because of the girl's work at the Tangiers.

Sara also wanted to take pictures of the bruising and any other marks on the victim's body. Sara usually liked to be alone with the victim when she was doing this. It felt more personal and respectful of the woman who had been attacked. Det. Perrin agreed and stood outside the curtained area speaking in low tones to the nurse on duty.

Sara gulped hard and looked at Anna. She was in her mid-20s, Sara knew, but lying in the bed, she looked younger. The bruising around her neck was harsh, and she seemed to have some contusions along the side of her face that indicated being hit with a fist. Her right eye was blackened and swollen. Her hands were bruised, as were her forearms and shins. Sara thought it likely that the girl had fought back. There was also bruising on the girl's chest and torso. Sara knew it was probably from the attacker sitting with his knees on the girl to hold her still. This could have killed her before the strangling. All in all, the girl looked like exactly what she was: a victim.

Sara finished taking the pictures and watched the girl's respiration on a monitor. She was on a machine at the moment, unable to breathe on her own. Sara could feel the familiar anger seeping from the center of her into the rest of her body. The tension was causing her jaws to ache and her neck to go stiff. The anger was like an old friend; they knew each other intimately. Sara wanted to let it in and welcome it home.

She had to fight to focus. The angry tears that clouded her vision were a reminder that the same emotion could cloud her judgment. What had Grissom said? That he trusted her to do the right thing.

"Grissom never understands," she thought to herself. But she knew it was the anger speaking, the same anger that had caused her so much trouble before. At least she now had a better angle on where the anger was originating. She was trying to save herself, and part of her was still angry with her parents for not saving her, for putting her through it instead. She let the hot tears fall, then she wiped them away and pushed the anger aside. She had work to do.

The fact that she knew she could run to Nick's apartment and lay in his too firm bed helped her open the curtain and meet Perrin's questioning gaze. With Nick laying at her side, or cradling her, she might make it through the night without obsessing over Miss Gilead.

"I'm done here," she said, and the detective closed his notebook, handed the nurse his card and walked her out.

* * *

A/N: Hope y'all are enjoying. I'm trying more drama this time. I hope it's got enough fluff to keep the Snickers interested. 

Anushka: Stick with me and I'll try not to hurt your feelings too badly. I promise not to kill anyone, at least.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Still don't own them.

A/N: Am I worrying anyone yet? Are you bored? Let me know in a review.

* * *

They rode in amiable silence at first. Sara was still trying to keep the anger at bay, and succeeding somewhat. She could stay at the lab, look over the case file and harangue the techs about results. The old Sara would have. Did it make results come any faster? Probably not. It would put her in a foul mood and she would finally force herself to go home and drop into bed. But that's what she wanted to do. The _need_ to do so was strong within her.

The yearning to see Nick was also strong. She knew she could tell him about the bruises on the girls neck and body, and he would listen, adding a comment with accent thicker than usual, and he would kiss the tears away from her face and hold her if that was what she wanted. It would not be all that she wanted.

Sara had never thought of herself as promiscuous. She had never had sex outside of a relationship, until Nick, and that was a relationship, even if it wasn't romantic. Because of this aversion to one-night stands, she had extremely long spells without having any kind of sex at all. She didn't know if that was why once she finally "got some", to use the vernaculer,it created a nympho out of her. She would every night. She was like a camel, hoarding all she could. She guessed it was the feast or famine nature of her sexuality.

Or it could be that her relationships never seemed to make it much further than the first year when sex is always plentiful. It was a dark thought, and pushed her back to a dark mood. That led back to thinking of Anna Gilead.

"You're very quiet," Perrin said. He had been watching her from the corner of his eye. He could tell the case was bothering her.

"Sorry," she said with a grim smile, and a tone that didn't sound apologetic. "I tend to …"

"Obsess over your cases," Perrin finished for her. Sara blinked. Was she so easy to read? "You know, every one has a type of case that works them over, like a heavyweight champion would work over a lightweight contender. I think your type of case involves young women being battered, abused and raped," he said.

"And what would your type be?" Sara asked. She wasn't sure if she liked Perrin's assessment of her, even if it was correct. Maybe she didn't like it because it was correct, and he had known her such a short time. Perrin chuckled at her direct question, and her slight glare at him.

"My type involves dogs," he said. Sara cocked her head in surprise.

"Dogs?" she asked. "How can a dog case work you over? How does a dog compare to a human?" she asked. Her tone was combative, and though she thought she might be pushing the point, especially with a person she had just met, she couldn't help the incredulous note in her voice.

"I'm not comparing dogs to people. It's just a visceral reaction I have. I remember one case in LA when I was aVice cop. We busted a ring of dog fighting, you know, betting, that kind of thing. Anyway, here are these dogs, bred for killing. You wouldn't believe the viciousness of these animals in the ring. They would die from their own injuries still trying to rip the throat out of the other.

"People would be all around them, yelling, screaming, vicious animals in their own right. And then the owner of the winning dog of this one fight I saw, he comes out to dispatch of the dog. Even though the dog won, he was beyond repair. So the owner comes up, gun in hand, and this vicious, throat ripping pit is lying in the ring, still holding the other, dead dog by the throat, and his freakin' tail starts wagging when he sees his owner.

"Something about that just broke my heart. This dog was doing everything to please the asshole that was going to kill him, that bred him as a commodity for violence. That dog was doing nothing the man hadn't trained him to do. It was no different than my dog catching a Frisbee when I was a kid."

"I think I see," Sara said, though she wasn't totally sure she agreed. "You're saying the dog is a victim of the man."

"The dog is a victim in a whole different way than another person. I mean, a lot of homicides I've seen, and when I was in Vice, the victim made some mistake, in judgment or something that gets them in the situation to be killed. I know kids are another matter, and believe me, that gets to me. It's that a dog is an animal that is completely under human domination. That dog's life began and ended at some man's whim. He was bred to do nothing but kill. They are controlled in all ways by our intentions. So it gets to me."

"A dog is the ultimate victim of man's caprice. They have no say in their lives, their deaths or their births. We abuse them, we use them and they still love us," Sara said slowly. She thought she understood, though a dog's death still wouldn't get her like the death of a person. Then she thought about the gorilla body she and Nick had investigated before. That had affected her pretty deeply as well.

"Exactly," said Perrin. "You're never going to completely understand it, but it's just what I'm talking about. Each of us has cases that resonate inside and work us over. This one is working you over pretty good." He gave her a compassionate smile. She surprised herself by blushing a little. She wasn't used to anyone but Nick being so sympathetic. Grissom always seemed to be condescending to her on some level. Greg was so green that everything was making huge impressions on him. Sofia didn't seem to get worked up about any case, kind of like Grissom.

"Yeah. They usually do," Sara admitted. They were at the lab now. She thought again about going in and looking over the case file. It was already 8:30 am.

"I don't know about you, but I am going to do the paperwork I have to, and come back to this tomorrow with fresh eyes," he said. "I hope you go in, drop that evidence off, and come straight back out here to your car," he said as she got out the passenger side.

"Thanks Detective. It's nice to have you on the team," Sara said, and began walking towards the lab.

"My friends call me Ozzie," Det. Perrin called loudly as he left the parking lot.

"Ozzie?" was all Sara could think as she waved half-heartedly. She walked into the lab with strongly dueling sides. She logged in her evidence and walked to the break room, thinking about grabbing a cup of coffee and reviewing the file. Her phone rang as she entered the room. She knew who it was before she even looked at the display.

"Hey," she said, sounding tired even to herself.

"You sound worn-out," Nick said on the other end. His soft drawl was a welcome sound to her ears. "Tough shift?" he asked. She sighed heavily.

"Yeah. Grissom let me work solo on a rape and attempted murder," Sara said. She wondered where her elation from early in the shift had gone.

"Sounds bad," Nick said. She knew there was an unspoken offer hanging between them. She counted on it.

"You want to meet me at the diner?" Sara asked.

"How about you come over here and I will fix your favorite waffles?" Nick asked. She could hear the gentle smile in his voice. She thought she could hear him getting the Belgian waffle iron out of his cabinet. He had bought it one day when they had gone shopping. She could feel herself relax a little bit. For some reason, there was always a piece of her that thought Nick was going to say that he couldn't meet her, or that she wasn't welcome to come to his house and take comfort in his body. Every time she knew she was seeing him again, a little wave of relief foamed over her. It was disconcerting, really, but she knew that she needed this human contact. And most of all, she knew he needed it as well.

"I'll be there within 30 minutes," she said, smiling a little now. She would probably make it in 15 minutes. It was weird, really, how much better she felt when she was going to Nick's place. Her anger and frustration were ebbing, hiding back in whatever place it was they stayed. Though it was forbidden in the rules they had established, Sara often wondered what would happen when Nick met some special person. Would it be like it had been with Hank, a shock that had rocked her to the core? Of course, with Hank, she had been the unknowing other woman. She hadn't been in love with him, really. And she wasn't in love with Nick. Really. Would it be easier knowing that the possibility, the certainty of him finding someone existed? Somehow, she didn't think so.

Right now things were perfect. She had her own space. She was doing well in her job, again, and she actually had a life outside of work. And she was boning a nice hunk of man. Or was that being boned by a nice hunk of man? Sara laughed out loud at that thought. Who would have thought science nerd Sara Sidle would have such a slut side?

She had reached Nick's house. She cut off the SUV and grabbed her bag. It always carried her essentials these days, as well as an extra outfit. When she let herself into Nick's unlocked house, she was embraced by the homey smell of fresh waffles. She breathed in deeply and kicked her shoes off. She laid her bag and jacket on a chair in the foyer, like she always did. She turned back and locked the door and set the alarm on the security system.

She walked into the kitchen and immediately burst out laughing. There stood Nick, placing a waffle onto a plate, dressed in nothing but an apron that read "BBQ King". Nick turned to her with a totally innocent look.

"Didn't I tell you we were having naked waffles?" he asked. Sara shook her head and giggled a bit more as she began unbuckling her belt. When her clothes were in a neat pile at the entrance to Nick's kitchen, she sauntered over and grabbed the strawberry syrup.

"Dining room, bedroom, or living room?" she asked. She had one eyebrow cocked suggestively and was holding syrup in what Nick thought was a provocative manner. He loved it when she had that look, the one that said she was up for just about anything.

"I cooked. You set the table," he said, and smacked her behind lightly with a spatula. She yelped and gave him a glare. Then she sashayed out into the hallway.

"Bring those waffles and your sweet ass in the bedroom," she called.

Anna Gilead was forgotten for the moment.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for sticking with me. Maybe this chapter will satisfy a little bit of that Snicker's sweet tooth.

Anushka: You really tickle me. Thanks for you continued reading!

EquestrianBabe; Don't hate Perrin. Yet.

Snickers Fans in general: I understand. You want the N/S ending. You'll just have to wait and see.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Dang it - still not owning CSI.

A/N: Thanks for sticking with me. Let me know how I'm doing in a review. Snickers fans- it's getting more angsty before it gets better - if it gets better. And we've got a few more chapters to go.

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They lay together easily, as always. The room still smelled like strawberry syrup to Sara, but the showers they had taken had each of them smelling like Nick's soap. She looked over at his profile. His hair was still damp. She liked it better now that he had let it grow back out. He had his eyes closed, but she knew he wasn't asleep because his fingers were making a repeating loop down her stomach and abdomen from her ribcage toher thighs and back. His touch was light and gentle. 

"You want to talk about it," he asked. His fingers stopped their trail and he opened his eyes, turning his head toward her. Something in her expression must have caught his attention, because he turned on his side and faced her. She did the same. Nick laidhis hand in the dip that formed at her waist. "Was it rough, processing by yourself?"

"It wasn't that bad at the scene, though I used almost all of my bags. I probably pulled stuff that wasn't relevant. It was almost like working my first scene solo again. I had so many bags the detective had to help me take them to my truck and then into the lab," she murmured. Nick had pulled the covers up over them, but underneath, he had pulled her a little closer and had his hand on her ass.

"Who was it? Not Cavaliere, I hope," Nick said. He assumed it wasn't Brass. Sara would have mentioned him by name. He figured it was Vartan. He knew Sam liked Sara. He also knew Sara liked Vartan's eyes.

"A new guy. Older, from LA. He said I should call him Ozzie," Sara said. Though she wouldn't have guessed it earlier, she was beginning to feel herself dozing off.

"Like Osbourne?" Nick asked. He was imagining a paler than pale homicide detective with stringy dark hair and tattoos.

"Probably like Nelson," Sara said. She had closed her eyes and was appreciating the feel of Nick's firm, warm hand, which was now stroking her back. "Anyway, he looks like an overgrown surfer. And he smiles all the time, even more than you," she said. Nick's hand stopped a moment. She opened her eyes. Nick's hand began moving again. She unconsciously snuggled closer to him. Their bodies wer fully pressed together, and she loved the warmth that spread from him to her.

"So when did it get hard?" Nick asked. He heard Sara giggle, and had to grin. Sometimes the girl had such a dirty mind.

"At the hospital," she finally said. Nick knew the giggles were gone now. He could feel a few of her tears against his chest as she buried her face into him. "She looked bad, Nicky. Really bad." She cried a little bit more, and Nick held her until they both fell asleep.

Nicky dreamed of a Grissom-like detective who grinned sharkily at Sara while Nick could only look behind Plexiglas. The detective opened his mouth wide, revealing rows upon rows of shark teeth. He began emitting a loud, electronic sound.

Nick woke up. The sound was his alarm clock. He hadn't gotten enough sleep between the hour nap he had taken after ball with Warrick and the four hours in his bed. It was still more than he sometimes got without Sara. On his days off, if Sara were with him, he would sleep until she had to get up for work.

He quickly silenced the alarm and jumped into his clothes for work. Sara was watching him sleepily. He pulled the covers up over her shoulders. She snuggled down into them. All he could see was her dark hair spilling onto the pillow.

"I'll see you at shift change," he said softly. He heard a vague murmur of assent in return. He thought she might already be asleep again. He went into the bathroom and brushed his teeth and gelled his hair as quietly as he could. He was pleased to hear her lightly snore when he walked through the bedroom.

He called his parents on his way to the lab. It was a good time of day to do so, and they liked to hear from him at least once a week. Actually, his mother liked to hear from him everyday, but he had to call once a week or receive a severe butt chewing over the phone. As he sat in the parking lot, listening to his mother talk about all the nieces and nephews, Nick suddenly felt a pang ofguilt that his mother never got to talk about his kids.

"So, Nick, are you dating anyone new?" his mom asked. She always seemed to know what he was thinking, which had gotten him in trouble a lot as a child. Luckily she had been a soft touch for her baby boy. Even his mom couldn't resist his smile.

"Mom," Nick said, the tone just a bit whiny even though he had been going for tough and adult.

"Nick, I hate to think of you flitting from relationship to relationship. When you're 55, with nothing but your job, you'll remember this conversation," she warned. Nick thought about Grissom, and how often he had wondered why the guy didn't just go for it with Sara. Now he was glad Gris hadn't. But still, he thought his old boss was lonely. How could he not be, with nothing but bugs and preserved pigs to keep him company? Nick definitely didn't want to be alone at that age.

"I know, Mom," Nick said. "I just haven't met the right one yet," he said. He thought of Sara, sleeping in his bed, and what his mom would say about their little arrangement. "I've got to go into work now. Tell Dad I'll talk to him next time," Nick said, verbally extricating himself from the conversation. It would stay with him the rest of the evening, tickling the back of his mind.

Sara woke with a start. Nightmares had plagued her on and off during the day, but when she had Nick's warmth, she had been able to settle down and ease back into sleep. Now, with nothing but the sheets against her skin, Anna Gilead's battered form kept slipping into her thoughts. The nightgown and underwear she had gotten from the hospital were waiting for processing. She looked at Nick's clock. If she got up now and went into the lab, she would only be a few hours early. She could process everything and check on results. Maybe she would even have something to give Det. Perrin, Ozzie, to go on. Maybe Anna Gilead would be able to give them a statement.

She got up and jumped in the shower to wash her face and hair. She could never get it to lay right after she had slept on it if she didn't wash it. She put all her stuff back into her bag. She made the bed, and she put the wet towels and bath cloths in Nick's hamper. When she left, no one would be able to tell she had been there. She didn't know why she did this. She knew Nick wouldn't mind if she left some toiletries at his house, or if she hung her towel to dry next to his in the bathroom, but somehow, this kept things casual between them, at least for her. If she started leaving things, it made the situation more permanent. Sara didn't want to commit to that. It left too many things open for the "what ifs".

She set the security alarm as she left and locked the door behind her. The evening air was warm and the sun had yet to completely set in the west. She was surprised when her stomach gave a loud rumble as she pulled her car door closed. She wished she had grabbed something to eat, but she didn't want the hassle of going back into Nicky's house. She decided to drop by the coffee shop down the block.

She was standing in line, debating between an iced coffee and veggie sandwich, or hot mochaccino and a bagel when she heard a friendly voice behind her.

"Imagine seeing you out and about so early." She turned and found herself looking up into bright green eyes.

"Detective Perrin! I was just headed into work," she said.

"I thought we had established that I was Ozzie," he said. Sara's mouth twisted into a smile, in spite of herself.

"Ozzie, then. What are you doing here?" she asked. She wondered if he had any developments.

"Getting breakfast, or supper or whatever the hell it is. I live a couple of blocks away. You live in this neighborhood, Ms. Sidle?" he asked.

"Uh, no. A friend of mine lives near here. And it's Sara," she said. She then turned and ordered the iced coffee and a veggie pita with havarti dill cheese. Ozzie ordered the same. "So, are you headed into the office?" Sara asked.

"Yeah. I couldn't sleep any later. Kept thinking of that girl," he said. Though Sara hadn't planned on eating at the shop, she let Ozzie steer her towards a small table. She figured it wouldn't hurt to let her food digest without road rage interfering, plus they could get a head start on a plan for the case that evening. As they sat, waiting for their order, she took a good look at Ozzie for what seemed to be the first time. Last night she had been too focused on working the case solo to have anything but impressions of the man.

He was older than she had first thought. The graying hair that was artfully arranged and the lines on his face put him closer to 50 than 40 or 45. He was a slim man, with nice broad shoulders and a back that tapered down to his hips. He wasn't skinny, though, and she thought he probably worked hard to keep a middle age spread from accumulating at his waist. He had long legs and moved with athletic grace. She put him at 6'2" or better, and still thought he was probably a surfer when he was in LA. There was no wedding band on his left hand, and he had a confidant air about him that immediately said "player" to Sara. He reminded her of Warrick a little bit, between the player confidence, height and light green eyes.

He obviously paid a lot of attention to his clothes. Most of the detectives favored dark suits, but Ozzie had on a lightweight, stone colored suit with a green shirt almost the same color as his eyes. The suit looked crisp and cool, and everything was smart and pressed about him. Sara felt a little dark and gloomy beside the man. She had on a maroon knit top with black pants. All wrinkle free fabrics that she could grab out of the closet without worrying about it.

He stood and grabbed their orders and brought them back to the table. He handed Sara her sandwich, coffee, and a few napkins. He took a bite of his own pita.

"This is pretty good," he said between bites. "I never would have thought of havarti dill." Sara took a bite as well and was embarrassed to hear her stomach rumble hopefully. "Did you even eat last night?" Ozzie asked. Sara rolled her eyes.

"Yes," she said, swallowing her bite. "I ate. Thank you." Her tone was acidic. Ozzie gave her one of his ubiquitous grins. She wondered that the man's jaw didn't ache.

"So you didn't obsess too much? But you are going in early to check the progress," he said. He smiled more broadly when Sara nodded. She wanted to wipe that look right off his face. She hated that he was reading her so easily, and this was the second day they had known each other. She decided he was smart, but way too cheerful for a homicide detective.

"I was going to check results, process the vic's clothes, and call you with anything I had. Then I was going to ask about whether the girl had given a statement or not, and review the boyfriend's statement with you and compare notes," she said.

"Wow. You've got our day, or night, all planned out. You keep this up and we'll have this solved by the time your shift actually starts," he teased. Sara couldn't help but smile, covering her mouth with a napkin to hide the bite of sandwich she had just taken.

Ozzie had already finished his. He was a quick eater, but everything was neat and mess free around him. Sara's part of the table seemed to be strewn with napkins and crumbs. It was something Nick always teased her about.

"So, I'll head to the hospital and take Anna Gilead's statement if I can. I will at least check on her condition. Then I'll come by the lab. Hopefully you'll have something to share, and we'll see if we can pick apart the boyfriend's statement." Ozzie smirked. "You see, I can plan too." Sara thought he had a nice smirk. It seemed more genuine than all the smiles he tossed around. Sara thought that for a moment, she was seeing the real, smart aleck Ozzie. She liked it better than playa Ozzie.

"So you think it's the boyfriend," she said. "Be hard to prove without a statement from the girl. He has every reason to have fingerprints and trace in the house." Sara's mind started churning. What if there was something from the bruising pattern on the girl's torso? She was drumming her fingers on the table without knowing it. She could already feel herself ready to take down the little punk in the interrogation room.

"Easy there, killer. We don't know anything yet," Ozzie said. He had a slightly alarmed look and Sara knew he must have been thinking that she was totally psycho. And she was, if she admitted it. She was letting the anger inside again. She had to focus and let the evidence lead her, not her emotions. "We'll meet up at the lab, agreed?" he asked.

"I'll be there," Sara said.

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A/N: I love Sara when she is fully in the throes of a case. I hope it shows. We've got several chapters to go, so thanks for sticking with me. The next chapter is going to be more on Sara's case and she and Nicky at work. All you Snicker's fans should go re-read forensicsfan's "Take Me Out to the Ballgame". It is cute and sweet - just right! Then come back here for the bittersweet, because it's going to get more bitter. Remember, I am trying to get better at angst here! 

FoxRox: thanks for the positive comments. Sara does deserve more than a booty call, even if it's a booty call with Nick. Let's see if Perrin can get the job done, or if Nicky comes through.

Anushka: I love getting your reviews. Thanks for sticking with it. I'm glad I might have made you indecisive about what you want to happen.Hopefully that means I am doing a good job with the story.

Forensicsfan: I loved seeing your review. I'm glad I could brighten your day, though the next few chapters may not do the trick. I've loved your latest two stories, by the way.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: You know.

A/N: Thanks for all the response. Now, on with the program!

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Nick had a rough night. The cases weren't too bad, but it seemed like as soon as he was finishing logging evidence for one, he was getting called to another. Right now he was in the midst of three cases: one with Warrick, one with Catherine and one on his own. Each of them had other cases as well. All hell had broken lose in Vegas during swing shift. Catherine had paged the dayshift guy on call. 

He finally had a moment to breath, so he walked into the break room. All he wanted was a diet Pepsi and a snack. When he looked up from his pack of crackers, he thought he saw Sara's lean figure waltz into the locker room. He looked at his watch. She still had three hours before her shift began. He wondered how bad the dreams had gotten after he left. He took his drink and crackers and followed her.

"So, bucking the overtime rule today?" he asked. She turned and smiled at him. She didn't look too tired. In fact, she looked great.

"Nicky, you look … stressed," she said. She frowned at what he had in his hands. "Did you not bring some lunch?" she asked. Nick smiled. That was normally his line.

"We've been slammed tonight. This is the first chance I've had for any kind of break," he admitted. He sat on the bench in front of her locker. "So, couldn't sleep?" he asked.

"Not well. I finally just got up. I stopped at that little coffee shop and got lunch," she said.

"Let me guess, roasted veggie pita with Gruyere," he said. He took a swig from his drink.

"Close. Regular veggie pita with Havarti dill. Anyway, Ozzie was there too. He must live near you. So we discussed our game plan for the night. I'm checking on my evidence from the scene and processing her clothes." Sara's casual mention of the new detective brought Nick's nightmare back to him. His shook his head. He had seen enough tonight without bringing his nightmares into it.

"Hey, if you need anything, let me know," he said, standing and draining the last of the soft drink. He leaned up against the locker next to hers. "Promise me you won't let this get under your skin," he said softly. The look he was giving her was deadly serious.

"You know I can't promise what I can't control," she said. "Beside, you look like you could do with that talk yourself." She cocked her head sympathetically and brought her hand up to his face. "I guess you're working a double," she said.

"Yeah. If your shift is anything like mine has been, you probably will be too," Nick sighed. The thought of working a double made him feel bone weary. The thought of working a double as rough as this had been without getting to hold onto Sara made him want to cry. Sara rubbed his cheek gently.

"Maybe we can meet for supper or breakfast, or whatever at the end of my shift," she offered. That garnered her a nod of the head from Nick. She leaned up and whispered in his ear, "Maybe I can lay the seat down in the Denali." That got the smile she was hoping for. She let go of him and turned back to her locker.

Nick almost asked her about the camping trip at that moment, but he held back. He couldn't help but feel like taking a weekend trip together might be crossing a line that Sara didn't want to cross. They walked out of the locker room together. They split up, Sara towards DNA and Nick towards the A/V lab. Nick turned at the corner of the hallway.

"I'll call you," he said, before disappearing around the other side.

"You always do," Sara thought. It put a small smile on her face. She was still smiling when she saw Mia in the DNA lab.

"Sara, you're here a bit early," Mia said, but she smiled. Mia and Sara had a comfortable working relationship. Sara felt like given time and a few drinks, she and Mia would probably be friends.

"I could say the same of you. You pulling a double?" Sara asked.

"Yeah, Lawson on swing is in Malibu, of all places. Can you imagine how red he is going to be?" Mia snarked. Sara laughed and noticed Hodges walking by the window out of the corner of her eye.

"What's Hodges doing here?" Sara asked. Hodges looked over at that moment and waved, looking at Mia the whole time.

"Who knows with David. You wouldn't believe how many times a night he walks by that window. Sometimes I think he just stands for a minute to make sure I see him, you know?" The pretty tech just shook her head as if she couldn't believe that Hodges was sitting at her window all the time. Sara decided not to comment on the fact that David Hodges, AKA the Nose, AKA the Brown Nose, had a well-known crush on Mia.

"So, have you gotten anything on my case?" Sara asked hopefully.

"I have profiles on your vic and the boyfriend. The boyfriend's data hasn't been run through the database yet. Get me something to compare them to, and I'll do what I can. It's been really slammed tonight though," Mia said.

"So I've heard. Thanks Mia," Sara said. As she left out the door, Mia called back to her.

"You bringing that new detective by again sometime?" the tech asked. Sara snorted laughter and rolled her eyes.

"We'll see," she said. Had she not realizedhow good looking Ozzie really was? Mia was impervious even to Warrick's charms. If she noticed Ozzie, that was saying something.

Sara started the database search for any DNA matching Todd McCall's. While she waited, she began processing Anna Gilead's clothes. She found semen and blood stains. The blood was probably Anna's, but the semen definitely wasn't. She swabbed both and took the samples to Mia.

The database had an interesting revelation. Todd McCall's DNA matched with an unknown serial rapist in Reno.

"Gotcha," Sara said, a big smile widening across her face. She looked up to see Grissom standing in the doorway. "Hey Gris," Sara said. She felt the smile fall from her face. Grissom was looking at her with grim eyes.

"You're here early," he said. It sounded like an accusation.

"So are you," she returned. "Sounds like swing's having a tough night," she said, trying to make conversation. Gris didn't bite.

"How's the rape case?" he asked, coming in to look at the printout Sara had.

"I just got a break," she said, the smile returning.

"Good," Grissom said. He started out the door, then paused and looked back at her. "You're good?" he asked. Something in her face must have answered the question, because he gave her a nod, and walked out. Sara felt herself blowing out a breath of air she had been holding. "Pecker neck," she said under her breath. It was a saying she had picked up from Nick, and she wouldn't have said it in front of anyone but him.

"I hope you're not talking about me," a voice said from the door. She spun around to see Ozzie. He _was_ really good looking. She felt herself blush at having been heard using Nick's not-quite-cuss words.

"Ozzie, I was just about to page you. I've got some very interesting DNA to show you," Sara said. She was smiling again. "I think we've got the boyfriend." Just then her pager went off. She and Ozzie walked through the lab hallways to Jacqui in print analysis.

"We've got a lot to talk about," Ozzie said. His normal smiling nature seemed a little subdued. Sara figured the hospital visit must not have gone well.

"Anna?" she asked. "Is she..."

"She's alive. They were able to wean her from the respirator during the day. She was able to whisper a couple of things, then she went hysterical and they had to sedate her," Ozzie said. For the first time, she thought he had what she considered a normal homicide detective look: haunted and a touch world-weary. It wasn't Brass caliber, but it was closer than Sara would have thought when she had breakfast with him earlier. By this point they had reached Jacqui, who gave Ozzie a very appreciative once over before turning to Sara.

"Sara, found an interesting print from the back door in your case," Jacqui said. Then she turned to Ozzie. "Good to see you again." Ozzie nodded and flashed a white smile Jacqui's way.

"The print is linked to a series of rapes in Reno. Subject is unknown," Jacqui continued.

"It didn't match the print of Todd McCall? He was the boyfriend of the vic," Sara asked.

"No," Jacqui said. "They aren't the same. His prints were on the back door as well. I haven't finished all the prints from the bedroom, but it looks like most are the McCall fellow and the vic. I'll let you know if I get anything different," she said.

Ozzie and Sara walked away, Ozzie trailing Sara because of his unfamiliarity with the lab. Sara's brain was burning. Todd McCall's DNA matched the Reno rapes, but his fingerprints didn't. Yet a fingerprint from her rape case and Reno's did match.

"Two guys?" Sara said aloud. She looked back at Ozzie's grim face.

"We need to get Todd McCall in the box," he said. "I'll make a call. Then we need to go over his statement."

Nick was in Trace with Hodges when Sara and the new detective walked by. Sara had the look she got when she was on fire with evidence. She would be in full-blown CSI mode right now.

He was finally able to get a good look at Detective Perrin. He immediately knew the type. He had seen a hundred sorority girls fall for guys like Ozzie when he was in college. It was all smiles and charm for a while, but once the panties came off, the guy was through. Nick wanted to run and get between Sara and the guy. There was no way he was going to … what? Nick shook his head at himself. He wasn't Sara's protector. He wasn't her boyfriend. Besides, from the look on Sara's face, she was thinking all business. Nick turned his attention back to Hodges.

"That's the new detective, isn't it?" Hodges asked. Nick just nodded his head, looking in the microscope at the paint chips he had pulled from the sight of a drive-by. "You know, I heard Mia and Judy talking about him yesterday. I don't see where he's that handsome," Hodges said, the slightest bit defensively. Nick had to hide a smile. "He's probably gay," Hodges snarked.

"That's what everybody says about you," Nick said, but then added, "I don't believe it though." Then he walked out. It was always fun to keep Hodges off balance. Nick felt a little guilty about being mean to the lab tech, but sometimes he couldn't help himself. It was a side he kept hidden when he could. It was a side that seemed to lash out more since his burial.

He almost ran into Catherine coming out of Trace.

"I was looking for you," she said breathlessly. "Brass is ready to interview the suspect in that drive-by. You want to sit in? I've got to head out to the Tangiers on another case."

"Sure. I'll go right over," Nick said amiably. In the back of his mind, he thought he could pump Brass for information on the new detective.

The interrogation ended with the suspect in cuffs. Nick was glad this case was over for now. He and Brass waited on the suspect to be taken out, then walked down to Jim's office.

"How's it going Nicky?" Brass asked. "I haven't gotten to talk to you in a while."

"Good. Crazy today, but overall, I'm doing better everyday," Nick said. He didn't know why, but he felt he could be a little more candid with Jim. With everyone else, he would have stopped at "good". "Heard you got a new detective? From LA? What's his deal?" Nicky tried to sound disinterested, but Brass's look told him that he had failed.

"LA had a little shake up a few months ago. A friend of mine got in the middle of a political mess. Ozzie was one of her guys, and he decided he wasn't sticking around if she wasn't. We had an opening here, so he joined us. He's a damn good detective," Brass said.

"A ladies' man?" Nick asked, still trying to sound innocuous. Still failing. Brass narrowed his eyes.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with Sara, would it, Nicky?" Jim asked.

"No," Nick said, scowling. "Just heard the lab talk. You know how gossip is in that place." Brass wasn't buying, but he didn't call Nick on it. "Maybe we should set him up with Catherine. She could use a decent boyfriend," Nick said. Brass laughed. Nick said his goodbyes and left. He hated the look in Brass's eyes when he had mentioned Sara. Brass suspected Nicky was jealous of the detective.

Was he? Did he have any right to be? So far, the guy hadn't done anything. They were just working a case. Nick still didn't like him, and the fact that he knew it was illogical and emotional only made it worse. For the first time in a long time, Nick felt like he needed some advice on women. There was no one here he could talk to about Sara. He knew he shouldn't be this possessive of her. She wasn't his; she was her own person.

It didn't make it any easier when he saw them together in the hallway. They were going into another interrogation room. He almost turned and went the other way. He could feel a deep anger working it's way through him. He had always had a temper that lashed out unexpectedly, and right after the burial, it had been extremely hard to control. He felt almost out of control now.

"Nick!" He heard Sara's voice. He took a deep breath and turned, pushing the anger down, down, down.

"Sara. You get a break in your case?" he asked. He was doing a better job of covering his emotions than he had with Brass. That or Sara was too worked up over the case to notice. He turned and took a good look at Det. Oscar Perrin. "Hi. I'm Nick Stokes, CSI," he said, sticking his hand out to the taller man. Sara was right; he did look like an aged surfer.

The detective gave Nick a wide smile and shook his hand vigorously. He had a hell of a grip. Nick tried not to let his macho side get into a "who's got the firmer grip" contest, but he did it anyway. Giving himself over to observation, Nick could see why the girl's were all talking about Perrin. He had a sort of Robert Redford meets Harrison Ford vibe. But he dressed like he was still stuck on Don Johnson in Miami Vice.

"Oscar Perrin," the detective said. "So, you work with Sara? Is she an evidence hound all of the time?" he asked. Nick definitely did not like the look he was giving her. She was oblivious.

Or was she? Nick detected a hint of blush at her cheeks, and the little hollow of her throat. It was a blush he had gotten to know very well, and loved to cause. It was his blush, dammit! Nick forced a smile. Sara was now given him a peculiar look.

"Yeah, you don't want to get between Sara and a case. She's a barracuda," Nick said. That hadn't come out exactly as he meant it,and now Sara was giving him a nuclear grade stare. He saw Perrin giving him an odd look, and he knew he was coming off asan arrogant jerk. "Um, Sar, you need a ride back to the lab?" he offered, hoping to appease her.

"No. That's all right. I'm not sure how long we'll be. Besides, I'm sure you have work to do," she said. Her tone was hostile. Even Ozzie the dreamboat had noticed it.

"Yeah. Maybe I'll catch you later," he offered. "Breakfast at 8?" he asked. He had toned the testosterone way down now.

"Maybe. Greg will call you," she said. Ouch. That was not a good sign.

"Good to meet you detective," Nick said. He was very nice this time. He felt it was probably too late. He turned to leave, a sinking feeling in his stomach telling him that he might be going without Sara's touch for more than today. He wanted to punch something or someone. Mainly himself, though punching Ozzie would have been very satifying.

Ozzie had noticed the tension between Sara and Nick. He was used to guys reacting to him defensively, but this had been a little different than usual. The guy seemed like a prick.

"Friend of yours?" he asked Sara. He had his hand on the door to the room.

"Sometimes," she said. She was biting her lower lip. Then she seemed to snap some part of her brain to attention. "Let's get this guy," she said. He could see her steel herself.

"Let's," he said, opening the door and letting her go in first.

* * *

A/N: So that chapter wasn't too bad, right? Let me know in a review. 

All Snickers Fans: I like Ozzie. So there. Now you have to see where it goes, and we've got a few more chapters.

Anushka: Good luck with finals. I hope this chapter doesn't drive you to drink or anything. Now if finals drive you to drink, that's different.

DarkDreamer56- I'm glad you find my plot original. I just hope to keep it interesting.

Mayme: Save that trophy until the end. Let's see if I really deserve it.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: You know.

A/N: You guys are so great! I can only hope to live up to expectations.

* * *

The next time Nick saw her, Sara was in Grissom's office. She was talking animatedly and Grissom had a proud smirk on his face. Nick felt the anger building again. "Pecker neck," he said to himself, his accent thick. 

He felt worse than he could remember since coming back to work. His head throbbed, and he could tell that even being in the A/V lab with the lights low had unnerved him. He was glad it was getting close to daylight. All he wanted to do was crawl into his bed and sleep, but he could tell it would not come easily today. He wanted, needed Sara, and he couldn't have her.

He left without saying goodbye to anyone. He went to his gym and took his anger out on the punching bags. If he couldn't sleep now, he would never be able to sleep. He was thoroughly exhausted. A couple of beers and a hot shower waited on him at home. Too bad all he could think about was her … the way she would snuggle next to him when they were asleep, the way she would get a gleam in her eye and attack him on his couch – the list went on and on.

He laid in his bed, exhausted from the day and the emotion. The beers lulled him, but his sleep was tenuous and fitful. Then she called. He hoped he didn't sound as groggy as he felt when he answered the phone.

"Hey Cowboy. I missed you at the lab," she said. Her case must have been going well. She sounded like the old Sara, the girl she had been when she first came to Vegas. She sounded like a girl who had the guts to flirt with a paramedic over a DB. How jealous had he been that evening so long ago?

"Yeah, I was able to leave a little early," he answered. "I just needed to get out of there."

"Well, Ozzie was going to take me out to breakfast to celebrate our case. Greg's going, and I think Warrick may even join us. You want to?" she asked. Nick thought about it. He wasn't really sleeping, but the thoughts of having to share her with everyone else made his head ache worse. Ozzie was taking her out to breakfast. The case had gone well. She didn't need his depressed mug beside her to drag everyone down.

"I'm going to stay here," he answered. He heard the disappointed sigh.

"Should I come over? I can eat breakfast another time," she said quietly. He hated that he might have brought her down.

"No," he said, maybe a bit too emphatically. "You should go out with the guys. You deserve it. I'll see you tonight at shift change," he said. His voice sounded fake to his ears. He hoped it fooled Sara.

"You're sure? I can bring you some breakfast," she offered.

"I'm sure," he said, again too firmly. He knew that a small part of him wanted her to ditch the detective and come to him. "Way to go passive-aggressive," he thought.

"You promise I'll see you in the morning?" she asked. She was really concerned now. He couldn't have manipulated her this way if he had tried intentionally.

"I promise," he said, softly. "I need to get some sleep anyway." Man, nothing he was saying was coming out right. They got off the phone and he sank down into his pillow, feeling even lower than he had before she called, which was a first since they had started all this.

His dreams were horrible, and he woke with a scream in his throat more than once. He got up and went into his bathroom and splashed cool water onto his face. His reflection in the mirror was that of a stranger. The stranger had dark circles under his eyes, and the lines on his face were apparent. Nick thought the stranger looked dangerously like someone who would be picked out of a line-up some day. When he came out of the bathroom, Sara was in his bed. His shook his head and rubbed his eyes, and looked again. She was still there, in a T-shirt and her underwear. Her face was concerned.

"I didn't hear you come in," he croaked. He hated how he sounded. Something in him even hated that he was so glad to see her, but he pushed that aside.

"I used my key. Are you OK?" she asked. He climbed into the bed beside her, and to his surprise, felt tears begin streaming down his face. "Nicky, what's wrong?" she asked, cradling him to her. His tears wet the shoulder of her shirt, and though he was silent, the sobs racked his frame violently. She knew he was still so far from OK after all he had been through. She pulled the covers over them and held him until the sobbing stopped. She could tell he had gone to sleep by his even breathing. She finally went to sleep too, torn between being pleased with herself for the job she had done today, and being worried for Nick.

He woke up an hour before the alarm. His eyes were grainy and his head throbbed. He got out of the bed softly and walked into the kitchen, the daylight piercing his burning eyes. He drank a glass of water and took a couple of ibuprofen. He turned to see Sara standing in the hallway looking at him.

"I couldn't sleep," he said. "I'll probably go in to work." She looked lovely, he thought. She was wearing one of his T-shirts, and it skimmed over her body in a sexy way that no negligee could compare to. Her long lean legs were invitations to be stroked and rubbed.

"You've still got an hour. Why not come back to bed?" she said, and she turned to go back down the hallway. He followed and gave in to her invitation to crawl under the covers. She gave and he took in an urgent, rushing way that left no time for murmurs or feeling. When he was in the shower, they both cried, alone. When he left, she pretended to be asleep. Neither felt any better for having been together, another first since starting the whole twisted relationship.

Sara was worried about him.

He was worried about himself. He drove to the lab in a fugue. He wanted to avoid any and all people. That was going to be hard, seeing as how he worked in a building full of them. Even if he pulled a DB, he would still have to deal with the living.

Warrick was in the locker room. Nick put on his best stoic face.

"Hey man. You feeling all right?" Warrick said.

"I've been better," Nick admitted.

"I figured you must not be feeling good after Sara said you didn't want to join us at the diner. She and Ozzie were pretty jazzed about their case," Warrick said. Remorse overwhelmed Nick. He hadn't even asked Sara how the case had gone. Evidently, it had gone well.

"What did you think of the new detective?" he asked, hoping Warrick wouldn't hear any telltale signs in his voice.

"He's cool. He is very into Sara. Greg noticed it too. Sara's oblivious, of course," Warrick said. Nick's heart skipped a beat. "Maybe he'll ask her out. Sara deserves to be romanced. You know, reminded that she's more than a CSI," Warrick continued. "She hasn't seemed to date much since Hank."

"Yeah," Nick said. She did deserve better. He hadn't been romancing her. He had been using her and letting her use him in return. That made him about one level above Hank. He hadn't liked Det. Perrin, but how much of that had been macho posturing? Nick knew himself well enough to know that a lot of it could have been. He had known this day was coming, but it didn't make it any easier. How was he going to cope without Sara to hold on to? Nick shook his head and tried to push all the dark thoughts aside so that he could go to work. God knew his work was dark enough.

The day was busy enough that he was able to immerse himself in the details, but slack enough that he had time to take a break. He was actually feeling a little better, but he avoided thinking about Sara if he could. It was hard. Thankfully, Catherine and Warrick were out in the field, so he could go on break by himself. He didn't want to have to fake it through a meal.

When he walked through the deli doors, he almost walked back out. There, at a small round table, sat Brass and Detective Perrin. Unfortunately, Brass saw him and waved him over.

"Nick Stokes, come over and meet our new detective, Oscar Perrin," Jim called out. Nick strode over to the two men. He stuck out his hand.

"Actually, Detective Perrin and I met yesterday. What are you two night owls doing out in the daylight?" Nick asked. The sun had yet to set on Vegas, though it wasn't long in coming.

"Crime stops for no man's sleep," answered Brass. "Have a seat, Nicky." Nick did and eyed the new detective from behind his sunglasses. In the light of day, the man didn't look quite as much like a snake oil salesman. Maybe it was that Nick's perspective had changed, and he knew so much of his first impression had been tinged with irrational feeling. Nick took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"You need to eat Nick," Brass said. "You look like hell." His tone was sympathetic. Nick gave him a wry grin and then went up to the counter and ordered his food. He came back to sit with the two policemen.

"I hear you and Sara solved your case," Nick said. He tried to sound as if he knew what he was talking about. Perrin eyed him thoughtfully, and then broke out in a smile.

"That woman is really something. Yesterday evening, I teased her that she would have the case solved by the time her shift started. Damned if she didn't almost do it. We got the guy we think is the accomplice today," he said. Warrick was right. The man clearly had a thing for Sara. Nick felt insanely jealous for a moment. He quashed the feeling down. If this guy would treat her anything like she deserved, who was Nick to stand in her way? "She was ferocious in the interrogation room. By the time I said a word, the guy was ready to break."

"She is tough," Nick agreed. Brass gave him a sideways glance. "But she takes it hard sometimes." Nick wasn't sure how, but the last sentence he had said came out menacingly, like a warning. Perrin narrowed his eyes and gave him an appraising look. Just then a pager beeped loudly. Each of the men scooted back and looked down to their sides. Nick thought about how Greg called it the "pager shuffle." Brass tossed his napkin down over his food.

"Looks like Vegas needs me," he said. "See you guys later." He was already dialing on his cell phone by the time he walked out the restaurant's doors. Nick's Reuben arrived, and he noticed that Perrin was eating a roasted eggplant and red pepper sandwich. Nick had nicknamed it the "Sara sandwich". Since turning anti-meat, it was her favorite sandwich at the deli.

"You're protective of her," Perrin said, breaking the silence that had arrived at the table when Brass left. Nick chewed his mouthful of sauerkraut slowly. He felt a caraway seed lodge in his tooth. Great.

"You could say that," he answered. Perrin had a soft look in his sage green eyes. For some reason, it made Nick feel a little guilty over the way he had treated the man. "I know I came off as an asshole yesterday. I apologize. It was a rough double shift," he said. He could see Perrin mulling it over. Then the man smiled again.

"I wasn't near as pissed off at you as Sara was," he said. Nick had to grin at that idea himself.

"Yeah, she doesn't go for the knight in shining armor routine much," Nick said. He found he liked Perrin in spite of himself. If it weren't for Sara, he and Perrin would probably have gotten along just fine.

"Tell me, Nick, do you think she would go out with an older guy like me?" he asked. Nick was surprised at the vulnerability in the man's eyes. He looked like a guy that might have been burnt once or twice, but was still attracted to the flame.

"I don't know, Detective."

"She's got a boyfriend? I figured she probably did," he said. His mouth twisted into a resigned frown.

"Not exactly. She, uh, she might not want to date someone from work," Nick said. He guessed that was close to true. He wasn't going to tell this guy that he and Sara were screwing around.

"It can't hurt to try, can it?" Perrin said. Nick's corn beef slid down his throat in a greasy wad. It was as if his stomach was full of rocks.

"I guess not," he said. He put his half-eaten sandwich back on the paper it had been wrapped in. He didn't think he could eat the rest. "I've got to get back to the lab. It was nice seeing you again, Detective." He wadded up his trash and moved toward the door.

"It's Ozzie," the detective's voice called as Nick threw his hand up in a wave and left the deli. He mulled the scene over and over driving to the lab, wondering if he had done the right thing. He did the ethically right thing by not standing in the way of Sara's potential new suitor, right? Why did it feel so wrong?

He barely made it into the bathroom at the lab before losing what little of the Reuben he had eaten. He then went into the locker room and lay on a bench with his feet planted on the floor and his face covered by his hands. He remembered the day Sara had come to his house and drank beer with him. It hadn't been much different from any other time after his kidnapping. He and various members of the team had drunk beers before. Hell, he and Sara had drunk beers before many times before the kidnapping. But he had been changed, and that had made all the difference. She had helped him more than anyone or anything. He hoped that she would never regret it. He knew the time of "friends with benefits" had come to an end. Even if she didn't date Perrin, there was someone out there she would want to date. Nick was keeping her in a holding pattern. He wasn't sure what kind of promises he could make to her, and he knew she wasn't asking for any. What if she did?

"I have so fucked up," Nick said to the locker room. No one contradicted him.

* * *

A/N- Please stick with me. This story keeps dragging out on me. I hope it's not boring you! 

EquestrianBabe - embrace your fear. Come to the Dark Side. (Just teasing.) Just stick with me.

FoxRox - next time, tell me what you'd really like to see in a story. Don't be shy! ; )

Anushka - If you're reading this, you should probably be studying, right? As long as it's just a break.

CSI Rookie Chick - any misspellings, etc, you can blame on the 10 month old sitting with me at the computer.

bomber6 - I love your comment! Very sly.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Don't own them.

A/N: To all that have given reviews, thanks so much! You guys are great.

Hope everyone had a greath 4th! Sorry this update is a little later than my usual, but on the positive side, we will probably be through with this story by this time next week. Like I said, it keeps drawing out on me.

* * *

Sara didn't sleep long after Nick left. Her tears dried eventually and she wondered why she had cried at all. There had been a time, in her very first serious relationship when she would cry after almost every sexual encounter. It had lasted a couple of months, but it had been frustrating for her and her boyfriend. She later figured that it was release of emotion and hormones. She knew she held on to a lot of emotion, and at that time, it was probably the first chance it had to come out. She had been lucky that her first boyfriend had been as inexperienced as her, and didn't know what to think about it.

She guessed she felt more used today than she had at any time with Nick. Now she needed to get out of his shirt, his bed, and his house. She needed to go to her own space. She didn't even shower at his place. She got her stuff and left, relieved when she got home. She showered, enjoying the feel of being in her own, glass door enclosed shower with the products she didn't have to pack back up and carry around.

She got out and looked in her empty refrigerator. There was some soymilk that had been sitting there about a month and a diet Pepsi. It would have migrated here with Nick, and that gave her pause. She was very worried about him. He had obviously had a horrible day, but they hadn't talked about it at all. She thought that she might need to get a couple of pizzas in the morning and get him to talk it out.

She had several hours before her shift began, but she didn't feel like trying to sleep. She didn't have a backlog at work. Any other time that would be a luxury, but today, she would have done a lot to keep her mind off Nick. This morning had broken something magical about their relationship. It had proved that they couldn't always be the answer for the other. She had known that in the back of her mind, but coming away from Nick's touch feeling cold made it reality. What if this ended their "friends with benefits"? What if she and Nick could no longer be the friends they had become, even without the sex? She was stronger now than she had been, but she could feel that not having Nick would leave her emptier than anything, even Gil's rejection and Hank's duplicity.

Sara wondered if it was too early to call Ozzie and check on the status of their accomplice. The one thing that had come out of the last day was a good break in their case. She and Ozzie made a good team, and she appreciated his ability to let her work the interrogation room. They had complimented each other well, and she was looking forward to working with him again. The fact that he was nice to look at didn't hurt either. The thought made Sara blush a bit, and made her feel a little uneasy, even guilty. It felt disloyal to Nick. Now she was agitated and confused emotionally.

"It's time to go to the range," she thought. It was one thing that always made her feel in control and powerful. As a plus, it looked liked she was working on a job requirement. A smile on her face, Sara emptied her thoughts of men and friendships and focused on getting ready to go shoot.

Most of the CSI's tended to treat the gun range as an anathema. They hated going, hated packing, and hated having to qualify each year. Sara had been like that at first when she started as a CSI in San Francisco, but when she started shooting, she discovered she had a natural talent for it. She never mentioned her secret love of shooting to anyone, not even Nick. This was time for Sara and Sara alone. This was a time when she could empty her head of work and Nick and concentrate on the comfortable weight of the pistol in her hand, and the satisfaction she got from knowing her shot hit it's mark.

The range was usually pretty empty this time of evening. The guy at the desk knew her by name, though she hadn't been by in a while. She could already feel the weights of the past few days lifting off her shoulders.

Ozzie had left her a message when she got to the lab. They had gotten their accomplice, and samples of his DNA and fingerprints should be on their way to the lab. The pep in Sara's step got a little bit bouncier. She checked on the results and let Mia know to page her when she got something. She went by Grissom's office and was surprised to see he wasn't there. She was early, but not too early, she thought. She collected the results from the fingerprint analysis of their accomplice and was not surprised to see it matched the unknown fingerprint from Anna Gilead's attack and from the serial rapist in Reno. Sara's face had an uncontrollable smile. She loved it when the evidence came together. The smile faltered when she saw Nick walking into the locker room. She wasn't sure how it would feel to talk to him. She hated that she wanted to avoid him. Even though she had called and invited him to breakfast and went to his house that morning, she had still been pissed at the way he had acted to Ozzie. She had rationalized it as him having a tough shift, and she knew, deep down, that Nick was still fragile in some ways. He would never show it to anyone else, but she had seen him after the nightmares and during some of his darkest times.

Now was the time to be a friend. What was that old corny saying, "A friend in need is a friend indeed"? Sara had spent a lot of time isolating herself from others. She wasn't going to do it now. She walked to the locker room.

Nick was taking off his vest and hanging it up. His movements and slumped shoulders told her all she needed to know. He had still not come out of the funk he had been in for the last day or so.

"Hey, Cowboy," she said softly. Nick's head jerked up as if he had been slapped. For a moment, she thought she saw the familiar light in his eyes that accompanied their meeting, but then thebrown irises seemed to cloud over. Nick gave her a wan smile.

"Hey yourself. You in here early digging into your case?" he asked. The awkwardness was there, but Sara decided to ignore it.

"Yeah, we got the second guy. I'm going to call Ozzie and tell him the fingerprint confirmed it," she said. The smile was back. She thought Nick stiffened slightly at her mention of the detective, but it was almost imperceptible.

"I never asked you about the case this morning. I should have," Nick said. He took a deep breath and looked down at his shoes. "I also should have apologized for what an ass I was being yesterday," he said.

"Yeah, you should have, but I forgave you anyway," Sara said. She had hoped to make him smile, but his shoulders only seemed to slump a little lower. "So ask me now," she said, trying to give him a chance to forgive himself.

"So, how is your case going?" he asked. He did have a slight smile on his face, but Sara didn't like how tired he looked. He hadn't looked this defeated since, well, since he had come back from Texas.

"Good. We confronted the boyfriend with the fact that his DNA matched the semen stain on the vic's clothes and a series of rapes in Reno. He totally collapsed right then – told us to find this guy, Tom Saul, and he would match the fingerprint on the house and in the other cases. He said that this guy was responsible for the attacks. He said once we found him, everything would be clear." Sara was grinning now. "So they brought him in and we've matched his fingerprint to both cases. Now we've tied them both to both crime scenes, and it will be a matter of playing one against the other."

Nick loved it when she was on a roll with a case. Thesparkle in her eyes was back. He only wished that he had done more to put it there.

"How's the vic?" he asked. Sara's smile twisted into a small frown.

"She's still not talking. She had to be sedated last time the detective tried to take a statement. I think I'm going back with him today," she said. Nick felt a small pang of jealousy, and Sara felt a small pang of guilt at being so happy to be going with Ozzie again. "You look like you could use 24 hours of sleep," Sara said.

"I could," he admitted. He closed his locker and stepped closer to her. She was surprised when he took her hand into his own. "Will you come by after shift?" he asked softly.

"You know I will. Why don't you just meet me at my apartment?" she offered. There was something in his eyes that didn't sit well with her. "We can drink a few beers and you can get whatever's eating at you off your chest," she said. It wouldn't be the first time one or the other of them had to get things off their chest and vent.

"OK. We really do need to talk," he said. Sara's stomach gave a little lurch at that, but she looked down as her pager went off.

"That's Mia," she said. Nick wore a guarded look now.

"Go," he said. "I'll be at your apartment after shift. Go."

She reluctantly left him and went straight to Mia's table. The evidence she received made her jaw drop. She immediately dialed Ozzie's cell.

"My favorite CSI," he answered. He must have known it was she from caller ID. "Of course, you're the main one I've met and worked with, but I'll go ahead and give you the benefit of the doubt. The title's yours, if you want it." She could picture the goofy grin on his handsome face.

"That's great, Oz, but I've got some evidence you really need to see. Are you at your desk or on the road?" she asked.

"All business. This must be a show stopper," he said. His voice was serious. "I'll meet you at LVPD in 10," he said.

"I'll see you there." She started to hang up, but heard him shout her name. "What?" she asked, a little snippier than she intended.

"You want anything? I was stopping to get a soda," he asked. She wondered how the man stayed so slim. He seemed to eat all the time. Sara stomach rumbled, and she realized she hadn't eaten anything since last seeing Ozzie at the diner.

"Yeah. Bring me a Snickers and a Cherry Coke," she said.

"Ooh, all sugar. We must be pulling out the big guns," Ozzie said.

"Bye, Ozzie," she said and hung up on him. But she was smiling.

Her Coke and candy bar were waiting on her at Ozzie's desk. He looked a little tired and more rumpled than usual, but still fetching in a grey suit with a dark blue shirt. He wouldn't listen to her evidence until she had opened the candy bar and taken a bite. He then grinned at her as she chewed self-consciously.

"At least now I know you've eaten something," he said. "I bet you haven't eaten anything since breakfast this morning." Sara hated when he was right about her like that.

"Thanks, Dad, though candy bars are not exactly nutrition," she sassed back at him.

"Ooh, that was not nice. I'm more like your older sister's sexy boyfriend to whom you will compare all others. Not really Dad," he said. She rolled her eyes at him.

Brass walked by and heard the tail end of the conversation.

"Too bad they are all ending up better for the comparison," he shot. He gave Sara a wink and kept walking. She grinned and Ozzie feigned a wound to the heart. He gave up the drama and got a little more serious.

"So, what is this crazy new evidence you've got?" he asked. She could see the crow's feet around his eyes when he narrowed them. Why was it that men seemed to just look better and more distinguished while women fought it tooth and nail? She doubted that Ozzie had La Mer eye cream on his bathroom vanity top. Then again, he was from LA, so who knew.

"Tom Saul's fingerprints match our unknown from the scene and from the unknown rapes in Reno," she began.

"Great, but why was that such a big deal?" Ozzie questioned. Sara glared at him.

"If you'd let me finish, I could tell you. His DNA is the same as Todd McCall's. So it also matches the perp from the rapes and from Anna Gilead's clothes," Sara said, and produced a copy of the DNA profile with a flourish.

"What the hell?" Ozzie said. "He and Todd are brothers? Twin brothers? Is that what you're telling me?" he asked. Sara nodded.

"That's what the evidence is telling me," she said.

"I think we need to have another little talk with Todd McCall," Ozzie said. Then he gave a low whistle. "This was a doozy. I'll never doubt you again."

"I'm still your favorite CSI, then," Sara teased.

"You'll always be my favorite," Ozzie teased back. At least, Sara hoped he was teasing. Otherwise the look he was giving her, and the blush she could feel creeping up on her face would make this a serious flirtation.

"So, uh. Do we want to get Todd McCall back in the box?" Sara asked. She was mortified that she could still feel herself blushing. Ozzie gave her a resigned smile.

"Yep. I guess it's back to work."

At the end of the morning, Sara sat back in the chair across from Grissom and detailed the case. He was in his observant mode, but Sara was fully animated.

"So, the brothers hadn't seen each other in 15 years, since their parents had died. According to Todd McCall, he has an alibi for the Reno crimes. We'll leave that up to Reno, but the only thing linking him to that crime scene was DNA, which is explained by the twin brother.

"Todd knew his twin had started using an alias after getting mixed up in some trouble before. He had never been arrested, but was wanted as a "person of interest". That's why we had no hits on the fingerprint."

"Why did he attack his twin's girlfriend?" Grissom asked, his lips pursed. At one time, this would have driven Sara mad. She had spent countless nights dreaming about his sensuous mouth. Now, she realized, it didn't bother her. She appreciated their sexy quality, but it was an observation that she could have made as equally about Warrick. An observation that led to nothing more. She realized in that moment, she was over wanting Grissom.

"Tom Saul, or Thomas Saul McCall, lawyered up as soon as we got him in the box. Todd McCall, however, did say that they had always been competitive over girls and that once when they were young teenagers, his twin went out with his girlfriend pretending to be him. Todd decided to get a lawyer to protect his interest in this case, but the DNA proves nothing when you count that twins are involved," Sara finished. Her realization had given her a new confidence, and she knew she could take whatever Griss said as a professional.

She thought about the time Nick had asked her what she would do if Gil ever got the nerve to ask her out. Now she knew. She would say no.

"What about the victim?" Grissom asked.

"They had to put her back on the respirator, but prognosis is good. Ozzie, I mean, Detective Perrin and I will go back to the hospital when they wean her off it again." Sara noticed Grissom's eyebrow had twitched slightly when she called the detective Ozzie. She hoped he wouldn't bring it up.

"It sounds like you had no problems working this solo," Grissom said. Then he gave her a small smile. "It's good to have you back, Sara. I want you to know that I am putting a notation in your file that we have talked the case over. I know I've been remiss in that kind of thing in the past. I won't let it happen again," he said. Sara gave a nod, but she couldn't hide how pleased she was.

"Thanks, Gil. Thanks for having faith in me," she said, softly. She did owe him that, considering he had watched her back before. She tried not to rationalize that his actions had helped put in the downward spiral she had been in at that time. Everyone is responsible for their own actions, and no one else's. Her PEAP counselor had tried to drill that into Sara's mind.

She left Gil in his office and had to try not to skip to the locker room. Well, maybe not literally, but mentally she was on an incredible high. Her case had gone well, and she had dealt well with it. She was getting her things out of the locker room when her cell rang.

"My favorite CSI. Do you have plans for breakfast, supper or whatever the hell it is we would be eating at 8 o'clock in the morning?" Ozzie practically sang into the phone. Sara smiled and almost said no. Then she thought about Nick and the last time she had seen him in the same locker room.

"Oh, man, Ozzie, I've got plans this morning. I guess I'll have to take a rain check," she said, with genuine regret, which made her feel a little remorseful, considering Nick was probably already at her house waiting for her.

"When's your night off? I heard about this great Indian place. Maybe we could have dinner?" he asked. Sara didn't say anything for a moment.

"Are you asking me out?" she asked, a little dubious.

"Actually, I am. I really like you Sara, and I thought it might be nice to have dinner together," he said, sincerely. There was a pause while Sara digested the information.

"Ozzie, I like you, and I think we work together very well, but …"

"Look Sara, Nick said you might not want to date anyone from work," Ozzie said, interrupting her.

"You asked Nick about this?" Sara said in a strangled voice. "Why would you discuss this with Nick?" she cried. She was furious with Ozzie and with Nick. What gave them any right to be discussing her, and when had this discussion happened? When they had all been together the day before, it was all Nick had been able to do not to whip it out and have a measuring contest right there.

"Don't be upset, please. It was casual. I just asked if you had a boyfriend, and he told me you didn't. And then he told me he didn't know how you would feel about dating someone from work. It was innocent really," Ozzie explained. She could hear the worry in his voice, which brought her back to the fact that Ozzie had asked her out. Did this explain Nick's behavior earlier in the evening? Could Ozzie asking her out have put him in a funk like that?

"Ozzie, you know, Nick's right in that I'm not sure about dating someone I work with. It hasn't worked out great in the past," she admitted. She hadn't really worked with Hank, but she did see him at work.

"Sara, I'm going to lay it on the line. You don't have to answer today. Think it over, and I'll talk to you tomorrow," Ozzie said. Then he added, "I'm 53 years old. Most guys have gotten off the force by then, and I'm still hanging on. I'm starting over in a new city after 15 years. I've learned that when you see a chance in life, you take it. If you get burned, you heal. If not, it might be the best chance you have ever taken. It's dinner, that's all."

"I'll think about it," Sara promised. It had been a long time since anyone had wooed her. She thought about what might have happened if Gil Grissom had this attitude. Then again, she was over that now.

"That's all I'm asking. And you know, if you decide you want to hook up, I'm always available for that too," he said, and she knew he had a mischievous grin on his face. She huffed into the phone. "I'll call you tomorrow sometime," he said.

"Bye," Sara said into phone, but she was already thinking of the tongue-lashing she was going to give Nick, and it wasn't the kind he liked.

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A/N: Like it or don't, please review. The next chapter is longer, and way more angsty, so be prepared.

Anushka: Hope exams went well. Be ready for real torture in the next couple of chapters.

FoxRox - Glad I'm not making you yawn yet.

Dark Dreamer - Always a pleasure to see your comments!

Forensicsfan - I'm sure Ozzie gives a lot of girls a second look.

Mayme - Just how I wanted Ozzie to come off. Don't hate him because he's beautiful.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Even if I did own them, I might not tell you.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I can see some of you are warming up to Ozzie, and it makes me happy. I hope it makes the angst work that much more.

On with the program!

* * *

Nick wondered if Ozzie had asked Sara out yet and if Sara would tell him. The thought of having to give her up was devastating, more than he had guessed it would be. Nick was no ladies' man, despite the rumors, but he had been in several semi-serious relationships. Semi-serious – did that even make sense? Those had all ended fairly amicably. He had moved, or she had moved, or they had decided that they weren't going in the same direction. He had only been in love one time, he thought, and that had been with his high school sweetheart. That hadn't survived through one semester of college at different schools. 

He loved Sara. There was no doubt about that. But was it the kind of love that sustained you through thirty years of marriage, or thirty years of being buddies? Marriage? That was a laugh. He hadn't even asked Sara on a date. They were fuck buddies, plain and simple. It had been nice, extremely nice, and it had provided him with comfort he had needed. He thought it had for Sara too. She had been more like her old self in the last fewmonths than in the last two years.

Ozzie Perrin was smart, handsome and nice, the bastard. Nick had to admit that he seemed truly taken with Sara. He wanted to ask her on a date. He wanted to court her. He admired her without having known her more than a week.

What did Sara deserve? Was it a broken friend whose moods dictated whether they were rock climbing and drinking beers, or murmuring softly while laying on tear-stained pillows? She deserved a man who would romance her, and remind her that she was more than a CSI. She deserved someone who would sacrifice everything for her, unlike Grissom, and who would treat her like a queen, unlike Hank. She deserved someone who would give her a reason to quit working so much overtime. She deserved someone who would date and pursue her. Maybe Ozzie was that guy

Nick knew that Ozzie would do a better job than he would, or had been. Nick couldn't even take care of his own emotional needs, much less someone else's. He could only be pulling Sara down. He knew she had needed his contact, but if she could get that from someone else with commitment, with love, she deserved that. If Ozzie turned out to be a jerk, Nick was going to personally tear him limb from limb.

Now he had to figure out how to tell her all of this. "I love you, but I don't love you enough. You don't love me, and you deserve more than this is giving you, so I don't think we should have sex anymore. Can we still be friends?" It didn't sound great.

Nick didn't count on them being anything but awkward after this. It crossed his mind that his bed was going to be empty for a while. He already ached to hold her in his arms. His stomach tightened into a painful knot when he heard her opening the door to her apartment. He stood and clenched his fists nervously. He thought this was probably the hardest thing he would ever do.

He had no idea.

Sara opened the door and shut it quietly, and carefully. The look on her face made Nick's knotted stomach do a flip in his torso. She was pissed, as pissed as he had ever seen her. For a moment, he wondered what Grissom had done.

"Whatever gave you the right to talk about me to Ozzie Perrin?" she said. Her voice cracked, but there were no tears in her eyes. If looks could have killed, Sara would have been disposing of evidence about now.

"Oh shit," Nick said.

"Oh shit doesn't even cover the half of it. What the hell did you think you were doing?"

"Sara, I swear to God, he just asked and I didn't know what to say. I wasn't going to tell him that you had a boyfriend and I sure as hell wasn't going to tell him about us," Nick said.

"You should have just said that you didn't know," she said fiercely.

"So he asked you out?" Nick asked.

"What does it matter to you? You're obviously not my boyfriend. You could have at least told me that you had that conversation. Dammit, Nick. Would you even have told me if he hadn't?" she asked. Nick stared dumbly at the wall. This was going even worse than he had anticipated. It had gone in a totally different direction than he had thought.

"I don't know," he said, finally.

"You don't know. Well what do you know, Mr. Stokes?" Sara said, in a scathing, mocking voice. Nick didn't want to look at her for fear of the look on her face that would go with the sneer in her voice.

"I know that sometimes you want to take a bite of my meat lover's pizza, but then think the better of it. I know you prefer green enchilada sauce to red if given the choice. I know you secretly harbor a desire for a puppy, but are scared that you would be a miserable pet owner. You called your parents by their first names as a child, and you straight iron your hair because you sometimes think the curly look is too cute for a serious profession like CSI." He had spoken it all in a low, sad voice. "I know that you are one of the best friends I have ever had, and I know you deserve a happy ending." He finally looked at her. She had tears in her eyes, but had not let them fall. Nick was surprised when his own tears fell from his eyes and trailed hotly down his cheek.

"I know that I can't continue to use you thinking that the happy ending, or a happier middle, might be in this guy Ozzie. And I can't let you use me as an excuse because you are scared of a true, grown up relationship. I hate that I ever put you in this position," he said. He looked away from her and wiped his tears from his cheeks with a quick, disgusted flick of his hands. "I know that sometimes I wish I could go back …"

"What about 'no regrets, no looking back'?" Sara asked. The sneer was still there.

"I lied," Nick said. He had virtually spat the two words out, and it didn't sound exactly like he had meant it. When he turned to apologize, Sara handed him his keys.

"Get out," she said. The tears were flowing freely now. "Get your ass out of my home."

"Sara, I … please don't let us end this way," he pleaded.

"I didn't, Nick. You did," she said. Her voice broke and through a sob she said, "Just go. Please."

So he did. What else could he do? He sat in his Denali and cried big, gut wrenching sobs like he hadn't cried since he was a child. How had he messed this up so badly? The last thing he had wanted to do was put the look he had just seen on Sara's face. He finally composed himself enough to go home, though he couldn't remember making the drive once he got there. He sat on his couch and looked at the house. It felt empty knowing that she wouldn't be coming back. He got up and walked to the kitchen, pulling a beer from the fridge.

He was crazy to think that she had never left anything at his house. There in the kitchen was the waffle iron he had bought so that he could make breakfast for her. The refrigerator held that micro-brew from San Francisco that he had special ordered. On the living room couch were the throw pillows she had picked out at some bargain basement store. He walked down the hallway, thinking of all the times he had carried, followed, or chased her down to his bedroom. That room was the worst. The pillow she had slept on smelled of her shampoo. Even the room smelled of her. His bathroom revealed the shower curtain she had bought because she hated his other.

There were pieces of her everywhere. She had left her memory everywhere. Nick finally understood every broken-hearted country song he had heard. He called and left a message for Catherine at work, feigning illness. He had never done that before, but he knew he would be ill in the evening, if he weren't still drunk, because that was what he was going to do. He was going to pitch a drunk like he hadn't done since his frat mixer days.

When he was reaching into the fridge for another beer, the calendar stuck on the door caught his eye. He was scheduled to take the weekend off. The camping trip he had never asked Sara about would have started in two days. He felt tears trying to come on strong again. The phone rang. Part of him hoped it was Sara; the other part hoped that it wasn't.

Caller ID showed a number he had known by heart most of his life. He wasn't sure if he wanted to answer it, but he did anyway.

"Hey Mom," he said into the phone. He was trying his best to sound normal.

"That's great Pancho, but your Mom's out with the girls in the yard. Hope I didn't wake you," his dad said. Nick smiled.

"No sir, you didn't wake me. I don't feel much like sleeping anyhow," Nick answered. He could hear his accent thicken the way it always did when he talked to his family. "How are you, Cisco?"

"Good. I hated I missed you the other day. You've been on my mind today, son, so I thought I would call." His dad went on to talk about his nephew's baseball games and how they were going to state. Out of the blue, Nick wanted very much to talk to his father in person. The beers in his fridge held no attraction next to the idea of seeing his dad.

"What would you say if I asked you to come up for the weekend? Just you and me. We could go camping or fish or whatever," Nick asked. His dad was quiet for a moment.

"You sure everything's OK?" he asked. Nick thought about how he should answer.

"I know it would be better if I could talk to you about it in person," he said. "If you can't get away, though, it'll be OK." Nick heard his dad take a breath.

"Pancho, you never could fool me with that bravado. Hell yes I'll come up. I've got nothing on the docket Friday. You know we like to take Fridays off anyway. Let me get a flight, and I'll let you know my schedule," he said. Just like that - all Nick had done was ask, and his dad was coming to him. Love for his parents overwhelmed him for a moment. He had moved away to get away from the Stokes name, to make it on his own, but he had paid a big price for independence.

"Thanks, Cisco," he said, his voice wavering some.

"Hey, you'll understand when you have kids," his dad said. "I'll call you back when I know something." Knowing that his dad was coming made Nick feel better. He called Catherine and left another message saying he would be taking several days off like he had planned. She could call his ass on the carpet later. Then he proceeded to get drunk.

Sara had slept sporadically at best. She kept thinking of the hurt on Nick's face when she had kicked him out. She kept feeling the betrayal that had fired her anger at him. Now she was left with what to do about it.

Fact: Ozzie Perrin had asked her out.

Fact: She was interested. (There, she admitted it.)

Fact: She and Nick had known this would come up, though she had always expected it to come up for him first.

Fact: She thought Nick should have kept his mouth shut and let her make this decision herself.

Now if she went out with Ozzie, neither she nor Nick would know whether she would have gone out with him anyway, or whether Nick had forced her hand. Did it matter? If she really wanted to go out with Ozzie, she should go out with him. If she went in to the lab tomorrow and found out that Nick had asked Mia out, would it be any of her business?

Her head said no, but everything else said yes. There was nothing logical about the way she felt. They had an arrangement, and there had been ground rules. So much for all this civilized behavior and so much for friends with benefits.

So much for sleeping any at all.

For a moment, she wished that Nick were there beside her, radiating heat in his comforting way. She tried to replace that with an image of Ozzie, but he kept grinning too much. For the first time in a long time, Sara wished she had a bottle of vodka in the freezer. She didn't, and that was a good thing.

She couldn't sleep, and tossing and turning in her bed was only making her sore. She got up and played spa, deep conditioning her hair, slathering her face in a mud mask, and giving herself a manicure and pedicure. She painted her toenails a color called "Blood Red" that had been a gag gift from Greg at Valentines. It looked good on her scrubbed and buffed feet. Her fingernails were filed neatly and coated with clear polish. She plucked her eyebrows and she showered using every the girlie scrub, cleanser and lotion she normally eschewed. In the back of her mind, she reminded herself that this was not because Ozzie had asked her out. She didn't even know if she was going.

She read the back issues of forensics journals, but nothing was sticking with her. She did what had to be considered her last resort on mornings like this - she went shopping. It was a truly desperate move for her, but she had to do something to drown out the interior dialogue that was making her crazy.

She had purchased a very uncharacteristic dress when her pager interrupted her reverie. She was grateful that she was being called into work, until she remembered that this was swing shift. She would have to see Nick earlier than she anticipated. She would just pray that Catherine let her work with Warrick. If not, well, Sara was practiced in hiding her emotions behind professionalism. She might not always be great at it, but she was practiced.

She took one last look at the silky dress with its swirls of light and dark green before putting it in the backseat of the Denali. She was not buying that dress with the idea of going out to supper with Ozzie. That was not the reason she had tried it on and spent more than her usual budget.

Sara sat ramrod straight in her vehicle and drove to work, preparing herself for the awkwardness that would come from seeing Nick again, especially so soon. She called Catherine on her cell phone. Catherine seemed relieved to hear from her.

"Thanks Sara. I tried the days guy first, but he never called back and you were next on the list," she said. It was unusual for Sara to hear gratitude in Cath's voice.

"Sure. What's up?" Sara asked. She wondered if she should go ahead and volunteer to work with Warrick. Would that be too forward?

"Nick's called in sick. In fact, he called in for several days. He was scheduled to take the weekend off, but I don't know what's going on with him," Catherine said. She left an opening for Sara to volunteer information, but Sara was as surprised as she was.

"Nick called in?" she asked. For a moment, nagging worry poked forth to her conscious mind. Since she was still more than a little mad at him, she tossed it aside.

"Yeah. Do you think you could come in and give us a hand? It's turning out to be a busy night."

"I'm on my way," Sara said. She hung up with Catherine and continued battling the worrisome thoughts intruding on her drive.

Catherine assigned Warrick and Sara to what appeared to be a murder / suicide in the Saturn Arm's apartment complex. Warrick won rock, paper, scissors to drive. That also meant he controlled the radio, which Sara didn't mind too much. One of the reasons she always drove with Greg was because it meant she controlled the radio. Another reason was just because she wanted to.

Warrick wasted no time in questioning her.

"So what's up with Nick? Did you talk to him after your shift?" he asked her. She hated the worried look in his eyes; she knew it would mirror her own if she allowed her worries to make it to the forefront of her thoughts.

"What makes you think I talked to him?" she non-answered. Warrick gave her an eye-roll.

"You two usually talk at least once a day. Am I wrong?" he said.

"No." Sara was making him draw it out of her.

"And here I was thinking I was going to enjoy working with you again. I had forgotten how much of a pain you could be," Warrick said to her. Sara snorted derisively at that, but Warrick knew how to get to her.

"Yes. We talked. I didn't know he wasn't coming to work," she said. Warrick gave her a beleaguered look.

"What are you not telling me?" he said. Sara felt heat in her face and tried to combat the defensive tone in her voice.

"Nothing."

"Oh, don't give me that shit. Did you guys have a fight or something? Was he depressed about anything?" Dammit. How could he guess that they were fighting?

"I tell you what, 'Rick - let's get this job done, and we'll ride by and check on Nick or call him." Sara's tone did not invite argument, but Warrick wasn't scared.

"Oh, we'll do this job, and then you are going to tell me what's going on. I don't like this about Nick calling in sick, and then calling in and saying he'll be out through the weekend. If it were anyone but Nick, Catherine would have had their ass." Sara could see the worry fueling Warrick's aggravation. Her heart softened a little bit. They were all touchy when it came to Nick, but Warrick had carried a lot of guilt around after Nick had been rescued.

"Look, we did have a fight, OK? And no, I'm not telling you what about," she said, her tone lower. "We'll go get this done, and then we can stop by and you can go in. I doubt he'll want me there," she admitted. After she said it, she wished that she hadn't. It said more about the permanence of the situation than she wanted to let Warrick know. It said more about it than she wanted to know. She wouldn't look at Warrick. She didn't want to see the questions in his eyes for fear that she would answer him. She knew that if she started talking, she would let all the anguish she was feeling pour out of her in a torrent. She trusted Warrick, and their friendship had been a hard won prize, but she didn't think either of them was ready for her to start spilling her guts.

By this time they were at the crime scene. She recognized Vartann, and at his side was Ozzie. Warrick noticed him too.

"Hey, there's your biggest fan," he teased. When he saw Sara's face, he wished he hadn't said it.

"This night keeps getting better," she said, aggravated that she was blushing and that Warrick staring at her in a way usually reserved for the interrogation room. She was also acutely aware that inside, she was pleased to be seeing Ozzie's handsome visage again.

They walked up to the pair of detectives. Ozzie gave Sara a quizzical smile.

"I didn't expect to be talking to you again so soon," he said. "But I am glad of it." Sara felt her blush deepen. She thought Warrick and Vartann were looking at the pair of them too hard. Still, Ozzie was genuinely glad to see her, and she could feel an unfamiliar excitement welling up from inside her. She smiled at him too, though it was a shy smile.

"Yeah, I got called in a little early," she said.

"Me too, though it looks like Sam's got this one. I was just leaving," he said. Sara fell relieved and disappointed at the same time. Ozzie leaned over and shook Warrick's hand and said his good byes. He then ushered Sara out of earshot of the two men. "So, you give it any thought? No pressure. I've just been making up plans of how to wine and dine you when you say yes," he said. Sara had to grin at the earnest expression on his face.

"Ozzie, I..." she started to say. She looked into his green eyes and saw something there she hadn't expected: openness. Beneath his teasing facade, Ozzie was worried that she was going to say no, and that was the clincher. Knowing that he was that sincere about her made butterflies flurry about in her insides. "I'd love to," she said. "But I don't know when I'll get a night off. I'm supposed to be off tomorrow night, but we'll have to see."

"I'll pick you up at 8," he said, and held her hand up to his lips. Sara was embarrassed, but pleased. She hoped Warrick wasn't looking.

When she walked into the apartment, putting on her gloves, Warrick gave her a grin.

"Look's like Ozzie finally asked you out. More surprisingly, it looks like you accepted," he said, smiling.

"What do you mean, finally?" she said. She narrowed her eyes at Warrick.

"I was just telling Nick yesterday that he had it bad for you," Warrick answered. He saw the look in Sara's eyes, and realized what the fight with Nick had been about.

"You know, I wish everybody would quit talking about my love life or lack of it," she said with a clenched jaw.

"I was saying it was a good thing, Sara," he said, trying to make amends. She just glared at him and stalked into the other room.

Warrick knew he was going to have a talk with Nick. Something was going on here, and he thought he knew what it was.

"What kind of mess have you two made?" he said to himself, but he knew he would be asking Nicky later. Until then, he and Sara had evidence to collect.

* * *

A/N: I have two more chapters of this written and at least a third in progress, so we've got a few more chapters to see how this goes. I keep saying that, but it keeps stretching out on me! Let me know how I'm doing! 

loose-canon-with-a-gun: Don't give away all my secrets! You see you were right about part of it at least. On to the next chapter!

Mayme - Thanks! I thought getting Grissom out of her system was something that had to be done.

bomber6 - Red herring? (Insert evil laugh here, preferably like Robert Wagner in Austin Powers.) Wait and see.

DixielandDelight: I haven't watched the other CSI shows, so any resemblence is coincidental. Maybe Sara likes them older?

Anushka: Glad you did well on exams. Hope your big presentation goes well. Just to let you know, I'm scared to read more of your "Fade to Black", though I know I will. I have a few more chapters to go if you want to wait, but I really like reading your reviews on each chapter!

jd - Did Sara look like a bitch? I hope not. I wanted her to come off as hurt and confused.

FoxRox - I'm glad you like Ozzie - and yes, Nick will have to get his act together if he wants to compete.

Jacinda - Just what I was going for!

bleedingmascara - it's good to be loved. Glad you are enjoying the story!


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: You know I only own Ozzie.

A/N: Thanks again for sticking with me during this story. It's my longest to date, and all the reviews have been inspiring (and sometimes hilarious).

* * *

Warrick and Sara had ended up working through both his shift and hers together. He hadn't asked her again about the fight with Nick, and gradually her mood had lifted. There was nothing like Sara on a case. He had missed working with her. It was funny how they had started off at odds, and now he trusted her as much as anyone. For some reason, Sara and Warrick never had the competitive relationship that both had with Nick. They just worked.

Between shifts, he had stopped by Nick's house. Sara had stayed in the Denali while Warrick knocked on the door. Warrick went back to the truck.

"Give me your key and his code," he told Sara. She handed over Nick's house key. She didn't ask how he knew she had it. She didn't care anymore. She knew Warrick wouldn't gossip about her, especially not if it included Nick. Besides, there was nothing about her having Nick's key that was suspicious.

Warrick went into Nick's house and had found the man passed out on his couch. He had covered him up with a fleece throw with a giant "T" on it. Helooked around. Beer bottles were everywhere, some still half full, a sure sign Nick had been drunk. If you're too drunk to remember where your half full beer is, you are pretty damn drunk.

Camping gear was partially packed in the living room as well. Warrick noticed the weekend circled on Nick's calendar. He looked at the notepad by Nick's phone and saw a note that read "arrival time" and "Cisco". He wondered if Sara would know who that was, or if she would even tell him.

He left, locking the door behind him. He could see Sara pretending not to be interested as she played with his MP3 player. He got back in the Denali and buckled up. They had ridden three blocks before either of them said anything.

"Was he there?" Sara finally asked, curiosity, and worry, getting the better of her.

"Yeah," Warrick had said. "Whatever you were fighting about really got to Nick."

"What did he say?" she asked. Warrick thought her face had paled a little.

"Nothing. He was passed out on his couch. There were beer bottles all over."

They didn't say anything else for a few moments.

"Who is Cisco?" Warrick asked. That caused Sara to turn her head and look at him. He thought he saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes, but if they had been there, they were gone now.

"His dad," Sara said thoughtfully, turning her head to look out the window. By this time, they were back at the lab. Warrick cut the truck off and they sat for a moment.

"We are going to breakfast after this shift, and we are going to talk about whatever is going on. You don't have to tell me everything, but enough for me to know why Nick is drunk and packed to go camping with his dad," he said. "And why you are so freaked out about being asked on a date by the new detective."

"Warrick," she said. Her tone was exasperated, but he cut her off.

"No if, ands or buts. We've got a lot of work ahead of us, so let's just agree that we will talk at breakfast," he said. He used a tone on her that he had learned from his grandmother. Sara nodded her head in mute agreement.

And that had been that. Knowing that she was going to be able to share some of her troubles with someone else had a brightening effect on Sara's mood. She knew it would be hard to talk about some of it with Warrick, but she had gotten used to being able to talk about her troubles with Nick. She needed an outlet. At least she was sure that talking with Warrick wouldn't lead to clothes flung about the diner. She had smiled to herself and allowed Warrick to lead her into the lab and back to the work that would consume her for the next several hours.

When it was time to leave, she and Warrick were both tired and cranky. They walked together to the parking lot.

"Can I trust you to come to the diner? Or do I need to drive you myself?" he asked, only half kidding.

"Let's go to the IHOP. I doubt anyone else will be there," she said, and he knew that she meant anyone else from the lab. He nodded his head and they each drove, arriving within moments of each other at the restaurant. It was crowded with people who had normal, daylight lives eating pancakes and reading papers while mostly ignoring each other.

Warrick waited until they had each ordered before questioning her.

"Spill it," he commanded. She looked distinctly nervous over the top of her coffee mug. "Tell me what's going on here," he said.

She told him, leaving out the explicit details. She told him that she and Nick had become very close. It was an arrangement that they knew would be broken if one of them met someone.

"OK. So then Ozzie enters the picture," Warrick said. She was perturbed at how unsurprised he acted. "Then what?"

"Then Nick talks to him. About me. He had no right to talk to Ozzie about me or dating me, or anything," she said vehemently. When she said it, the situation didn't sound as dire as she and Nick had treated it. If she could only make Warrick understand how deeply betrayed she felt.

"Why did this cause such a fuss?" Warrick asked, and Sara sighed.

"It was like he deceived me. He made this decision before I did. He didn't even let me choose," she said. Emotion was overwhelming her. "He always has to play knight in shining armor. Well, I'm a grown woman, and he doesn't have to save me from myself," she said.

Warrick was a little amused that this was what had caused such a rift between the two. It didn't sound like much, but with fervid emotion involved, he knew it could have gotten ugly in a hurry. What didn't amuse him was how much both Nick and Sara must be hurting.

"So what decision would you have made?" he asked, taking a bite of his pecan pancake. "If Nick had never talked to Oz, what would you have done?"

Sara thought for a moment. It was the question she had avoided asking herself. If she and Nick hadn't fought, would she have said yes to Ozzie?

"I don't know. I probably wouldn't have agreed to go out with him," she finally said. When she said it, she recognized that Nick had been right. She would have used him as an excuse to avoid the chance of a relationship with Ozzie. Warrick watched realization dawn on Sara's face.

"What?" he said.

"Nick was right. He said he wouldn't let me use him as an excuse not to go out with Ozzie," she said. "I wasn't fair to him, was I?" she asked Warrick.

"No, probably not, but he wasn't fair to you either," Warrick said. Sara seemed to deflate a little when the anger began ebbing out of her. She picked at her strawberry topped pancake.

"What do I do? I'm confused about this whole Ozzie thing," she said. Warrick had never considered that he would be giving Sara advice on dating. It was an odd position to be in.

"Go out with him," he said. Sara looked up at him in alarm. "Go out with him. It's just supper," Warrick repeated. "Take a chance. All you are risking is a bad meal. You've never been one to shy away from a chance," he said. This had gotten a small smile from Sara. "And then, when you decide you want to go for the whole shebang with Nicky, he'll believe you," he added. Sara had almost choked on fruit.

"We're just friends, really," Sara said. "Really!"

"Oh yeah. Well, when you go out with Ozzie, no matter what the outcome, you and Nick can get this right between you. You two are friends, and you've been good for each other. You can't lose that," Warrick offered.

When they parted, Sara felt a little better. She could go out with Ozzie tonight and see how it felt. Warrick was right; it was only a meal.

Warrick watched her leave and wondered how people could be so blind. He hoped that this meal with Ozzie showed Sara what she had been missing.

Ozzie called her as she was entering her apartment.

"Am I still picking you up at 8?" he asked. She liked that he called to confirm, and she liked that she could detect a bit of uncertainty in his voice. Maybe he wasn't the player she had thought to begin with. Since talking with Warrick, she had allowed herself to get excited about going out.

Why not? Ozzie was handsome, smart and interested in her. He was interested in her as a date, not a scientist and not a buddy. He was taking her out to eat Indian food. She and Nicky would have gotten Mexican to go, and would have ended up having sex on his couch.

She deplored the thought as soon as she had it. It wasn't fair to Nick to characterize him like that, especially when she had initiated the whole "friends with benefits". Truthfully, she was worried about him. She and Warrick had done a little snooping and found out that Nick had reserved a campsite upstate and that Judge Stokes had come in on the 8:00 am flight. Amazing what you could find out when you said you were with the LVPD. Now that she knew that he was with his father, she felt like she could relax. She didn't like that she was feeling as if a burden had been lifted, because she had never considered Nick or being with Nick a chore. It said a lot about her selfishness. Sara didn't give much of herself to anyone. It was a survival instinct, she guessed, and when she had decided to give herself, it hadn't turned out well.

This was going to be different. Whether or not things worked out with Ozzie, she was determined to work them out with Nick. Sara had run from emotion in the past, and she had run from commitments. Well, she had a commitment to Nick. It was to be his friend, and she was going to meet that promise this time. She went to sleep with that thought. He was still on her mind when she woke up.

She had worked herself back into a worried mood by the time Ozzie knocked on her door. She gave herself one last once-over in the mirror, a little taken aback at how doe-eyed she looked. The green dress she had bought looked just right, and the strappy heels accentuated the long look of her legs. She had second thoughts about the blood red toes, but it was too late now. She grabbed her clutch and opened the door.

Ozzie stood and openly admired her.

"Wow. You look gorgeous," he said and smiled at her. Ozzie was looking foxy himself in a dark grey suit with a royal blue shirt. "I really wish I had the evening off," he said, offering his arm to her. She pulled the door closed and linked her arm with his. "If I had the night off, we would definitely go dancing," he said.

"I'm not much of a dancer," she said, smiling at him.

"Well, that is a dancing dress if I've ever seen one," he told her. "And believe me, you would have no trouble. It's all in learning to follow the lead," he said. He opened the car door for her. Then he leaned down and kissed her lightly on the lips. It was quick, but electric. Sara hadn't expected it and it left her with a fluttery feeling in her stomach. "I know that was forward, but I didn't want to wait until the end of the evening, when I might have curry on my breath," he said.

Sara wasn't sure what to say, and Ozzie closed the door before she had a chance. She could feel that her whole face was red, and her lips tingled from the contact. He got into the car himself and gave her a self-conscious smile, or as close to self conscious as Ozzie could manage. Sara smiled back, and forced herself to relax.

"It's just supper," she thought, but it didn't reassure her.

The Indian place was perfect. Ozzie was perfect. Sara was perfect. It was the best date she had been on, ever. Sara felt like the giddy teenager she had never been. Only this was better, because every time Ozzie held her hand or touched her side, she felt that same spark of electricity, and unlike a giddy teenager, she had no illusions about what that could mean further down the road. They had discussed movies and books. They had innocently gossiped about the LVPD. It was interesting hearing things from a newcomer's point of view. Sara had been that newcomer once, but now, she was a definite old-timer.

"So what about life before Las Vegas? Who are you, Oscar Perrin?" Sara had asked, flirtatiously.

"OK," Ozzie started seriously. "I've been married twice. The first time for five years, the second time for twenty." Sara looked shocked at this. She hadn't pegged Ozzie as a married man, though at his age, it would have been a little odd if he hadn't been.

"Kids?" Sara asked. The idea of him as a father was stranger still.

"No. Looking back, it's a blessing in disguise that my first wife and I didn't have children. She was the type that would have used the children against me," he said. He gave a half-hearted chuckle. "Of course, I made her that way. Like a lot of cops, I drank too much, brought my work home."

"And your second wife?" she asked. Ozzie gave her a sad smile. It was almost as endearing as his smirk.

"She died three and a half years ago. Cancer," he said. "That's the reason I'm mostly vegetarian. During the last year of her life, she had us living on a macrobiotic, no meat, no dairy, no wheat,nothing but kelp and tofu regimen. I'll eat fish every now and then, and now I eat dairy, but I've stuck with a mostly vegetarian diet." He smiled at her, and Sara tried not to be wary, but dating a widower wasn't what she had planned on.

A small amount of awkwardness lasted after he divulged that information, but before long, he had Sara laughing and relaxed. They walked through some casino shops, and too soon, it was time for Ozzie to take her back home.

At her apartment door, Sara felt a dizzying anticipation. The electric current that had been in overdrive between she and Ozzie since he had kissed her was dancing around them now. She was glad that he had to go to work. She was a little scared where things might have gone otherwise. Ozzie had been a gentleman, doing no more than holding her hand or putting his arm around her, but she thought, given the chance, things would go further. They said the little goodbyes that are always a bit stilted at the end of a first date, and then he had leaned down and kissed her, chastely at first.

When she responded warmly, he enveloped her in his long arms and deepened the kiss. The electricity of before had been nothing compared to this kiss, and she tasted the spicy cinnamon that she remembered smelling at their first meeting. This kiss was passionate, but not insistent. It was a promise of things to come, in their own good time.

"I have wanted to do that all night," he said. Sara opened her eyes and looked into his green ones, searching for some sign that he was lying, or a poser, or a snake in disguise. There were none. His kissed her again, leaving her a little breathless. "Can I call you tomorrow?" he asked. Sara silently nodded.

"I had a great time," she finally said, disappointed in how small her voice sounded. She had unlocked her apartment door.

"Me too," he said. "Lock up, and I'll talk to you tomorrow."

She did and watched out the window as he drove away, part of her wishing he had been able to stay.

"Nick's turned you into a slut," she said to herself. She cringed, wondering why she was thinking of Nick so soon after Ozzie had turned her knees to jelly. And it reminded her that when she had opened her eyes after Ozzie's kiss, she had halfway expected the eyes to be brown instead of green.

She went to her bedroom and changed the sheets, trying not to think of the last time Nick had lain on that pillow, or the way she loved it when his strong hands …

"I've got to go for a run," she told the room. She was all mixed up. She knew the chemistry with Ozzie was strong, and was the cause for the nervous, sexually charged energy, but she kept thinking of Nick, and all the times they had lain under her covers talking, laughing and crying, or the one time she had wanted him so desperately that she had cleared the dining room table with a sweep of her hand like some melodramatic television movie.

The run was a good way to think things out. She was a logical, rational scientist. She could deal in facts.

She felt a connection to Ozzie, and that kiss. That kiss had been unbelievable. She thought there was something there that given time, could turn into …

What? What did she think it could turn into? Love? Marriage? There goes Sara with a baby carriage? She shook her head at the images. The rhyme running through her head sounded like Greg's voice.He was really rubbing off on her. The question remained: what did she think it could turn into?

She could picture herself waking up to a good-looking Ozzie, with bed head that looked carefully coiffed. She could picture them making pancakes and reading the Sunday paper in the evening, talking and debating the news or gossiping about friends and co-workers. She imagined him leading her out onto a dance floor, and the jealous looks from other women.

The crazy thing was, she had done all of that with Nick, except the dancing. She loved Nick; it was true. She loved him as well as she had loved any friend she had. But there was a chance with Ozzie that she could have the friendship she had with Nick, plus more.

Nick was her friend. They had complicated things, but the fact was, he didn't love her more than regular friend love. Maybe Ozzie would. She had been too hard on Nick, because in the end, she knew he was trying to look out for her. The betrayal she had felt at learning he had talked to Ozzie about her was dimming with time and introspection. Warrick was right; she had to make things good with Nick. She had never had enough close friends to go losing one now.

She turned around and headed back to her apartment. Tomorrow, she would call Nick, and if she couldn't get his cell, she would leave him a message at home.

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A/N:

Anushka: Sara and Vartann? Hmm. This could go from a triangle to a rectangle. You may have just stretched this thing out 15 more chapters! ;-)

Mayme: Ozzie can't be perfect, then there would be no hope for all those Snickers!

wlk68:I love it when folks say things like you did. I hope it means I've created a good story.

jd: Like I've told some others before, don't be shy, tell me what you really want:-p

A Christy: I was so pleased and flattered at your review. I hope the eight chapters flowed together well in one sitting!

FoxRox: I absolutely love your reviews. I hope the next chapters aren't a let down. I agree that Warrick hasn't gotten enough scenes lately, especially with Sara.Let's stretch your empathy muscles some more; after all, Nicky's been through a lot.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Only Ozzie is mine.

A/N: OOOh. That last chapter got some of you Snickers. Good. That's what I was going for. What's a love triangle without three parties? Sara has a choice to make, and it has to be hard.

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Nick had picked up his father at the airport early Friday. His head was still pounding from all the alcohol he had drank the day before. He hadn't shaved, and the last look he had given himself in the mirror had shown a tired, wasted face. This wasn't how he really wanted to greet his father, but it was better than sending a cab. He hoped his sunglasses hid most of the damage he had done to his system. He had taken aspirin and was currently working on his second bottle of water. He sipped slowly, afraid that drinking too fast would cause his body to rebel.

He saw his father's silver hair in the crowd and immediately started to feel better. His parents wouldn't appreciate the predicament he had gotten himself into, but there was no one else he could talk to about this subject. His father had met Sara, but he didn't know her, and everyone around Nick knew her too well. Nick depended on his father's abilities as a judge to be objective, and on his sentiments as a parent to help him out.

Nick waved his hand and caught his father's eye. The two men embraced,and Nick was glad he was wearing sunglasses, because he could feel tears burning his red eyes.

"You smell like a brewery, Pancho," his dad said. Nick laughed. Cisco always got to the point.

"That would be because I drank myself into a stupor after we talked last night," he said, grabbing one of his dad's bags.

"That bad?" Cisco asked. Nick only nodded his head. "So where are we off too?"

"Somewhere I can get away from the lights of Vegas and my own apartment," Nick answered. He already had the truck loaded with camping and fishing gear that hadn't been used in a while. That had been a Herculean task with his head protesting the way it had.

"That sounds like woman trouble, Pancho," his dad said, and smiled gently.

"You have no idea," Nick answered. "You hungry?" he asked, changing the subject. As much as he wanted to talk to his dad about the whole situation, he didn't want to do it on the drive. He wanted to be out on the lake or sitting by a campfire.

"Starved," his dad answered with a smile. Talk could always wait until Nick was ready.

Nick's relationship with his father had always been close, though it had grown strained during his teenage years, as many did. Even then, he and Cisco had always been able to get along about two things: baseball and fishing.

The one thing he always thought he needed was Cisco's approval, and he had gone to great lengths to get it in the past. As he had grown older, though, he began to see his dad as more of a friend. Nick's need for approval had dissipated, whether it was from his dad, or even Grissom as his supervisor. He figured it was all a part of being confident in your job or your life. And since being buried alive, Nick hadn't cared as much what anyone had to say.

Except Sara.

Now his confidence in the direction of his life had taken a down turn and he felt he needed his dad's advice, if not approval, again. He drove, his head pounding, listening to his dad singing the song on the radio. His dad always sang a little off key and behind the music. From Sara's comments, Nick realized that he did this as well. They talked about family and friends back in Texas as they set up the campsite. Nick mostly listened and cracked open a cold beer from the cooler. He handed it to his dad, who drank and sighed appreciatively. Nick drank from his own can. The beer finally tempered his headache some and his stomach quit griping at him.

They fished, catching a few, throwing most back. They made it back to camp and made a campfire. They sat in foldout lounge chairs at the fire's edge. With the dark held at bay by the orange flames, but still close enough to shield Nick from any disapproving glances his father might have, Nick felt ready to talk. His father must have sensed that the time was right.

"So, Nick, what's going on here? You sounded worse yesterday than you have since you came back to Vegas. In fact, in the past few months, you've sounded great," his dad said. Nick heard the concern in his father's voice. He wondered how much of it had been telegraphed from his mother.

"I have screwed up. Badly," Nick answered. He remembered the look Sara had worn on her face when she kicked him out. She had been mad, but mostly he remembered the hurt. He had never wanted to cause her to hurt like that.

"A lady friend?"

"Sara," Nick answered. His dad gave a chuckle and Nick tried to find his expression in the firelight.

"Your mom said something was going on with y'all," Cisco said. "She told me two months ago that she thought you and Sara were getting very friendly." His dad laughed again. "She is always right about you kids."

"How did she know?" Nick asked. His mom had never asked him about Sara.

"She said that every time you were going to do something, Sara was with you. And I think Sara answered your phone a couple of times when she called." His dad sighed. "Now I owe her a weekend at some spa."

"You bet on it?" Nick asked, incredulous.

"Well, hell, son. Either way I won. A spa with your mom or a weekend of her waiting on me hand and foot, including massages," he answered. Nick blanched at the lascivious way his dad said massages.

"Way too much information there, Cisco," he said. His dad laughed at that.

"So what went wrong with your girlfriend?" his dad asked.

"Well, for starters, she's not my girlfriend. It was an accident at first," Nick started. He wasn't sure how to explain, so he just dove in. "We accidentally slept together, I guess you could say. It just happened. Then it happened again, in the heat of the moment," he said.

"There is no way to accidentally make love to a woman, son," Cisco said. "I just don't think it works that way. Do we need to have the sex talk again? I thought you got the idea back when you were twelve," Cisco said. Nick sighed. He had actually gotten the idea earlier than that, but his parents had never known. Nick never wanted to tell them. He couldn't bear the guilt that they would put upon themselves.

"I think I've got the idea, Daddy. What I meant was that the first couple of times weren't intentional. We did not set out with that out come in mind."

"So then what? It became intentional but you aren't dating?" his dad said. To Nick's surprise, his dad's tone wasn't dripping with disapproval.

"Yeah. Sara called it 'friends with benefits'. I swear Cisco, she is the one thing that has helped me come back to my job and my life. She has become my best friend."

"She doesn't want more than friends?" Cisco asked. He sounded a little disbelieving.

"Sara's complicated. It's just that once we started, it was an outlet for both of us to overcome the things we've seen and the things that have happened in our lives. The only times I have slept for more than a few hours have been with her in the bed. I think it's that way for her too." He paused for a moment. "I _know_ it's that way for her too."

"What's made a difference?" Cisco asked. "Why are you out here camping with me instead of your best bud?"

"She met someone," Nick said forlornly.

"So she broke it off with you?"

"No," Nick said. When he started laying all this out for his father, it sounded incredibly stupid. "This new guy is a detective we work with. I knew he was interested in her. In fact, he told me he wanted to ask her out." Nick took a deep breath. "I was going to tell her that we needed to quit and that she needed to go out with this guy, because I was afraid I was holding her back from what could have been the real thing for her.

"She found out that he and I had talked about her and freaked out. Then we had a big scene at her place and she kicked me out. Then you called, then I got drunk and here we are." For some reason, none of it sounded quite as dramatic as it had been. Even now, Nick could feel his broken heart throb, but telling the story sounded anticlimatic. He was having a hard time remembering when it had become such a good idea for Sara to go out with Perrin.

His dad was silent for a few moments and Nick stared into the fire, wondering where Sara was, and whether she was with Ozzie. He wondered if he would ever be able to sleep again without drinking his liver into a toxic state. He tortured himself by imagining Ozzie with his tanned arm around her.

"So, let me summarize," Cisco said. Nick's ears perked up. This was the way Cisco always approached a problem. First he summarized and clarified the issues.

"You and Sara are best friends. I assume this means you do things together other than have sex?" His dad's tone was matter-of-fact. Nick thought of it as the "judge" tone.

"Yeah, yessir," Nick stammered. Even now, his dad's cross-examinations were nerve wracking.

"Ok. So you and Sara are best friends. You also sleep together on a regular basis, and this provides some measure of comfort for each of you. It's mutual in that respect. You are worried that she won't go on to what could potentially be a loving relationship because of you. You had a fight, and now you are worried that you won't be friends any longer. Are you also jealous of the other guy? Are you scared of facing life without being able to hold onto her?" his father asked.

"Yes."

"To which question?"

"To both," Nick said simply. He was scared of facing the nightmares knowing that he wouldn't be able to lose himself in Sara. He knew that he wouldn't be able to like Ozzie if he and Sara did start dating because of jealousy and pettiness. It wasn't a pretty self-portrait, but he thought it was true.

"I guess the simplest question is, do you love her?" Cisco asked.

"I love her, as a friend, but I don't know if I'm in love with her. I mean, I guess if I have to ask, it isn't true, right?" Nick asked. It might be a simple question, but he had no idea what the real answer was. He had thought about it until he felt his ears would bleed and his head explode.

He could see his father's pursed lips in the flickering orange light. Cisco brought his hand up to his lips for a moment, and then Nick thought that he smiled.

"Nick, by the time you came along, your mother and I had been married more than 15 years. You've gathered, I'm sure, that you were an accident of sorts. Your mom and I thought we were finished having children when Ruthie and Ruby were born. That was four years before you.

"Anyway, you never really saw what your mom and I were like in our first years together. We argued all the time. That was just an extension of how we were in law school. You know, when your mother and I met, she was engaged to another fellow." Nick looked at his dad in shock. He had never heard this part of his parent's story. From his point of view, his parents had always gotten along extremely well. They had bickered some, but it always seemed good-natured.

"You busted up her engagement?" Nick asked. He couldn't imagine his father even entertaining the idea of dating a girl who was promised to another.

"Hell no. Well, not really. Your mom and I were friends. That is, at first, we were study partners. It was a good match, because we debated everything. We argued all of the time. I guess it makes sense, because I became a prosecutor and she became a defense attorney. It took a while for us to even become real friends, because we would make each other so mad.

"When it was time for us to graduate law school, I found myself getting so mad at her, I could strangle her. She kept going on about how she and her doctor fiancé were going to set up shop in his hometown in West Texas, and I kept telling her it was a waste of her talents. Oh, would she flay me with words." His dad chuckled with the memory.

"So what happened? Obviously, you two became more than friends," Nick said.

"Two months into my first job, I was a wreck. I couldn't think, I wasn't sleeping, and I was not impressing my new bosses. I couldn't imagine what was wrong with me. All I could think about was her. I wondered how she was doing, and how the wedding plans were coming. I finally got up the nerve to call her. The only time I was worth a damn was for the day after I had spoken with her on the phone. So I started calling her every day.

"She told me about how the good doctor wasn't as keen on her being a working lawyer as he had first professed. She was disappointed, and I could tell she was at a crossroads. Then she told me that she didn't know if we could continue being such close friends after she was married. It seemed the fiancé wasn't keen on her being friends with me either." His father, the judge and the tough lawyer, had tears in his eyes at the memory of almost losing his mother. Nick was astounded. Cisco wiped his eyes and smiled.

"After we got off the phone that day, we were both crying, though I had waited until we hung up to really bawl. Then it occurred to me that I couldn't live without her. I knew I could hardly live with her, we fought so much, but living without her had been awful, and the idea of continuing it was worse.

"I guess what I'm saying is this: sex, well, you can get it a lot of places. Is it the sex that was getting you through, or was it Sara? I found out I loved your mother the moment I realized I couldn't live without her, and that is a fact I've kept going back to over the years. Even in marriage, you fall in and out of love, though under it all you have to be friends. But I know that the minute I have to go on without her will be the hardest minute I've dealt with in more than fifty years."

Nick was openly gaping at his father.

"What did you do to get her away from the doctor?" Nick asked. He couldn't believe he had never heard this story. Did his sisters know the story? Did his brother?

"I kidnapped her," Cisco said in his matter-of-fact way.

"What the hell?" Nick exclaimed. For a few moments at least, Sara was not on his mind.

"We went for a drive, and she said the most beautiful sentence I had ever heard come from her lips at that time, 'I'm thinking of breaking up with the doctor'. So I kept driving until we got to my parent's house. And I asked her if she would mind still having the wedding with me as the groom." Cisco grinned at the memory.

"And that was that?" Nick asked. His mother had fallen for that corny line?

"Well, it helped that I told her I had been miserable without her, and that I wanted to do whatever would make her stay with me forever. And then we went in and called her family. It was a big scandal." Nick could only imagine how his grandmother, his mother's mother, had taken the news. This was the same woman who was so into tradition that she had forced him into cotillion classes as a kid.

"Well, Pancho, this old man is ready to turn in. I'm not used to these late hours," his dad said and got up from the lounge chair. "I guess you've got some decisions to make," he said as he went into his tent.

"Cisco," Nick said. His father turned to look at him. "Mom must have been miserable without you too, right?" he asked.

"She told me that she had been making do with the doctor until I came around. Knowing how stubborn your mom is, she probably would have waited up until the day of the wedding for me to come to my senses if I hadn't driven out to see her."

Nick sat in the camp chair and stared into the fire. What decisions were there to make? Sara may have already made them for him. What if he was the stubborn one waiting for her to come to her senses?

Sara woke quite early Saturday, and she was still dazzled a little by the date with Ozzie. Thinking about his kiss made her tingly all over. And that tingling made her think of Nick. Why did everything lead her back to Nick? She wondered if he had made it back home. She needed to call and apologize. She needed to know that they would be OK, eventually.

She had gone into a cleaning frenzy after her run, trying not to think about Ozzie and Nick. Warrick had told her to go out with Ozzie. Well, she had, and it was great. Now what? Warrick hadn't told her what to do afterwards. Though Sara would not admit it to anyone else, and it pained her to admit it to herself, she would really love for someone to tell her what to do next, because she was doing a piss poor job of figuring it out for herself. She looked at the clock. She still had a few hours before she would go into the swing shift. She and Warrick had the case they were working on, and Catherine had let her know that she would approve her overtime if she would come in and help while Nick was out.

She called Nick's home phone, praying that he wouldn't answer, and he didn't. She left a message that she had rehearsed before.

"Hey. When you come back from your trip, give me a call. We need to talk. I'm, I'm sorry, for, well, anyway, call me. This is Sara," she finished lamely. All that rehearsal had been for naught.

She opened her refrigerator to find it as empty as it had been several days before. She looked at the clock again, and decided to go grocery shopping before going in. Once at the store, it kept crossing her mind that the last time she had been there, Nick had been with her.

What if Nick had been the date last night? Sara tried to block the thought out of her mind, but it remained, interfering with her ability to accurately read the ingredient label on the back of the frozen dinner she was looking at. She threw it in her cart and gave in, imagining a real date with Nick. Going out, holding hands, waiting with baited breath for his kiss – all of these were things that would never be, because they couldn't seem to make it much past supper without going at it.

That wasn't true. They went shopping, they had gone rock climbing and Nick had even convinced her to try hang-gliding. But even when they had gone climbing (it had just been a rock climbing wall, but still difficult), all she had been able to think about was how nice it was going to be to get Nick back to his place and peel those sweaty clothes off him and pile along with hers on the way to theshower.

She had seen him at some of his worst moments, and she had seen him at some of his best. And vice versa. Warrick was right again. They had been very good for each other. Nick had made it plain he wasn't her boyfriend. Was that what she wanted?

Ozzie made it plain that he wanted to be her boyfriend. Was that what she wanted?

Sara made it through buying a few groceries and getting back home. When she began unpacking them, she noticed she had bought lasagna with meat sauce. She put it disgustedly into the freezer, wondering if Nick would ever have occasion to eat it. She looked at her answering machine. No messages. She packed her meal for the evening and went to work, her mood darkening as she went.

Warrick was in the locker room when she got there. He gave her a knowing smile.

"So how did dinner go?" he asked. Sara wanted to bite back at him, but the memory of her lovely evening intruded.

"It went well," she answered, going for terse, but coming off as reluctant.

"I heard it went very well," Warrick said. "I saw Ozzie right afterwards. The man was dancing on air," he said. It had amused Warrick to no end to see the effect Sara had on the older detective. The teasing from Warrick should have made Sara crazy, but instead it made her smile. She tried to hide it with a twist of her mouth, but she couldn't, especially when she thought about the goodnight kiss. Warrick laughed at her as she blushed.

"OK. OK. It was a good date," she confessed. Warrick laughed again.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," he teased. Then he thought of Nick and wished he hadn't said it. "That is, welcome back to the dating world," he amended. "So, are you going out with him again?"

"I guess. I haven't decided," she said. "In reality, he hasn't exactly asked. He said he would call me today sometime."

"If the first date was good, what would stop you from going out with him again?" Warrick asked. Sara gave him a look that communicated it clearly. "Have you talked to the other him?" Warrick asked, speaking of Nick.

"No. I left him a message," Sara said. She could feel her mood dim again. She looked up at Warrick as he stepped closer to her locker.

"You know that Nick is my bro, but Sara, you've got to do what's good for you, just like Nick needs to do what is good for him," he said. "If you don't show up here with your game tight, we all suffer."

"Bring it on, because my game is tight tonight," Sara said, giving him a challenging stare.

"Don't tempt the Fates, girl," Warrick warned, "at least not until you are with Sanders next shift."

The Fates had listened to Warrick, because Sara, Greg and Grissom pulled a double homicide. The victims were twin girls, about fourteen, and they had been reported missing about a month before. Rape, abuse,and murder, and all in the family from the DNA evidence they had pulled. Sara wanted nothing more than to go home and scrub the day away in the hottest shower she could possibly endure. Grissom had watched her behind his inscrutable blue eyes most of the evening, and she thought she had passed his test. Greg was a bundle of raw nerves, and Sara felt more than a little sorry for witnessing his continual loss of innocence in this job. Sometimes she wished for the old Greggo, but she knew there were times that he had made her shifts so much easier for simply being with her and being his goofy self.

The drive home was almost unbearable. She found herself waiting for Nick's phone call, and looking for him at the diner on the way home. She almost turned to go to his house, but continued on her way to her apartment. This was a morning that she would have gladly gone to his house and let him feed her waffles. He would have lit candles for her in the bathroom and scrubbed her back in the shower.

The cell phone interrupted her reverie, snapping her back to the reality that showers with Nick wouldn't be happening any time soon, or probably ever again. She immediately felt tears prick her tired eyes, and fought them back in order to answer the whining cell phone.

"Sidle," she said. She was glad that her voice didn't choke up. She unconsciously smiled when Ozzie's bright voice came to her through the cellular phone.

"Hi Sidle," he said. "How's about joining an old guy for breakfast? Or supper if that's what you want to call it."

"I would Oz, but I am almost home and the hot, hot shower is calling my name," she said. Breakfast with anyone would have been good, and she thought Ozzie would cheer her up pretty well. Thoughts of a bare chested Nick Stokes intruded for a moment, but she pushed them away roughly.

"You sound tired. Not to put it bluntly, but you sound like shit, Sara. Another tough case?" Ozzie asked. He sounded concerned. She could picture his green eyes filled with worry. Worry for her, and not the kind of pitying worry that she hated.

"Yeah, it was really bad. I think poor Greg would have liked to been able to puke at one point, but he's gotten too tough."

"What if I brought breakfast to you?" Ozzie offered. Sara thought a moment. The idea of breakfast coming to her was a good one, but she knew what would have happened if it had been Nick bringing her breakfast. Would it be the same with Ozzie?

"I don't know, Ozzie," she began. "I'm not very good company right now."

"The best time for a friend with food," he said. "No strings, Sara. Just a listener bearing take out plates. Your choice: breakfast, 24 hour Italian, or 24 hour Chinese."

Sara relented.

"Vegetable Lo Mein would be really good."

When she got off the phone, she realized she had a sappy grin on her face. She tried to wipe it away, but it kept springing back into place. Once she was in her shower, alone, the memories of the last week came on strong, and she cried, for the girls, for herself and for Nick.

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A/N: I know the last chapter was making some of you Snickers crazy. I don't know if this one helped or not. The next chapter is almost finished, and it is the last! Yeah!

SnickersFans - you know who you are. Just stick with me! And no, I am not going to kill Ozzie.

DarkDreamer - Thanks, as always. One more to go!

Jacinda - Glad you liked the humor! I am glad you like Ozzie. I think him being likable is pretty pivotal to the story being strong.

Anushka - You were kidding about Vartann? Dang. Guess those other 15 chapters will have to be scrapped. Glad you are so into the story. Does this chapter clarify Sara any more? I think she is confused and scared because she is so used to having defensive walls up. As far as a Nick/Sara/Grissom triangle, I might try my hand at it later, but I think my angst reserve is tapped right now. You will probably be seeing a couple of fluff pieces from me in the next month. Thanks so much for your reviews. I hope you'll like the next chapter.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I only own Ozzie.

A/N: This is the last chapter. Finally! I hope you all have enjoyed the ride, though you Snickers have been tortured a bit. I don't know if I will doing any large amounts of angst again soon, but I have a few ideas for fluff.

Thanks for all the reviews. You have definitely made it worth my while.

Sidenote: I am assuming Nick and his dad took their nicknames from "Pancho and the Cisco Kid" an old television show. I remember (vaguely) seeing it in reruns when I was a child. Does anyone else remember this show? Because of that, I figured Nick and his dad were close. Some fics I read have them as very distant, but I don't see that. Anyway, I just wondered if anyone else got this.

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_Sara let her date lead her out onto the dance floor. The club was nice, dark and intimate, and the jazzy music had been a pleasant surprise. She was thankful that she had thought not to wear tall heels, because she had never been the most confident dancer. She remembered that a certain someone had once told her that it was all in following the lead, and she relaxed. She let her partner lead her, their bodies moving as one, without input from her brain._

_That was a good thing in and of itself, because at this moment, between the wonderful meal, the red wine, and the music, she was having a hard time getting anything but incomplete thoughts out of that mass of tissue between her ears. None of it had anything to do with the feel of her dance partner's strong arms around her, not at all. His breath in her ear was sending luscious shivers through her body, and she was more than comfortable pressed up against him. She closed her eyes and let herself float on the dance floor with him, inhaling his fragrance. She felt his head dip down and his lips brushed hers with a familiarity that was at once comforting and exciting. She knew precisely what those lips could do, and the promise they gave for the end of the evening. She opened her eyes, and looked into his. She loved those expressive eyes; eyes that were the color of ... _

Nick had driven his dad back to the airport early Sunday morning. His dad hadn't asked what he was going to do. They had talked of the family, and about whether Nick would make it to Thanksgiving this year. All day Saturday they had been bird watching and fishing without talking of what decisions Nick might make.

They shared an extended hug before his dad walked out to the concourse. Nick realized that Cisco looked frailer than he used to; his age was starting to show. Cisco paused a minute after he started towards his gate.

"I'll expect an update in a couple of days. I'll hold your mom off as long as I can," he said, grinning. "I love you, Pancho!" The last bit was called out to him. At one time, it would have embarrassed Nick to no end. Today, it brought a stray tear to his eye.

"I love you too, Cisco," he called back. He would try to make it back down at Thanksgiving.

He drove home, his mind wandering over the past week. He thought he knew what he wanted to do, but he was afraid of the outcome, either way. He was surprised to see Warrick Brown sitting on his front steps. He wondered if Warrick had come to warn him that Catherine was ready to fire his ass.

"Warrick. Surprised to see you here," Nick said upon exiting his vehicle. He opened the garage door and went around to the back of the SUV to begin unloading camping gear. He pulled out the cooler and offered Warrick a beer. Warrick accepted and started helping Nick with the gear.

"Did you have a nice time with your dad?" Warrick asked. Nick hesitated a moment, the smiled.

"Do I want to know how you found out where I was?" he asked. Warrick shot him a glare.

"You better be glad I did find out, or we would have been out looking for you. You scared the shit out of us," he said. "Sara and I even came by Friday night. You were passed out on your couch." Warrick watched Nick from the corner of his eye. Nick ran a hand through his hair and then rubbed the back of his neck. He looked tired, and the three days of growth on his face was not an attractive look.

"Did she come in?" Nick finally asked.

"No. She said you probably wouldn't want her there. She told me about the fight," Warrick said. Nick was startled at that, and looked at Warrick with questions in his eyes. "She told me that you had an arrangement," conceded Warrick.

"She told you all that?" asked a disbelieving Nick. He had thought Sara would probably take that one to her grave. He narrowed his eyes at Warrick. "What else did she say? That I'm a jackass and she never wants to talk to me again?"

"That's probably what she should have said," was the answer he got. Then Warrick smirked at him. "She's worried about you. We all are."

"Me too," said Nick softly. "Do you know if she went out with Perrin?"

"Yeah. She went out with him, and they had a great time. Oz was practically floating on air. The only thing keeping her from going out with him again is you," Warrick told his friend.

"She said that?" Nick asked.

"Not in so many words. Look, Nick, I am going to tell you like I told Sara. I love you like a brother, but she has got to do what's good for her, just like you've got to do what is good for you. Hopefully you two can work it out where it's good for both of you," Warrick said. He grinned at the last part, his light blue-green eyes dancing.

"What are you saying?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe that in the last few months everyone's noticed the difference in the two of you. Being stupid and blind, I didn't suspect much until the past couple of weeks. Did you know that Sara's overtime has dropped 100, and that she is only slightly above average levels for the lab?" Nick shook his head.

"It's true," Warrick continued. "I saw the monthly overtime report on Catherine's desk. And as I recall, she has taken more than a couple of vacation days to do things like rock climbing, hang-gliding ..." Nick smiled, chagrinned. He had told Sara that Ozzie might give her a reason to quit working so much overtime. Had he already given her a reason?

"What about Ozzie?" Nick said.

"If you don't get your act together, he's going to slide her right out from under you grasp. And he'll deserve to," Warrick said. Then he got extremely serious. "What the hell were you thinking Nick? This is Sara, not some bimbo. I thought you were the traditionalist, man."

"Hey, that's not how it worked. This was, it just ..." Nick realized anything he said would sound trite, like the excuse it was. He watched as Warrick took the last of the gear out of the back of the vehicle and put it in Nick's overly orderly garage.

"If I were a betting man, I would bet that you need to get your ass cleaned up and buy some flowers on the way over there," Warrick said.

"Good thing you're not a betting man anymore, huh?" Nick returned. Flowers were a good idea. It would have to be special though.

"You need to hurry up. She's working swing with me tonight," Warrick said from his rolled down window. He was backing out of Nick's driveway. "I'll expect her to be all smiles."

Nick pulled up at Sara's apartment building. He had two hours before she would have to report to shift. He knew that she would already be up, drinking her god-awful coffee. He looked over at the bouquet in his passenger's seat. The casino florist had said they would impress any woman. Well, that guy didn't know Sara. Still, desperate times called for desperate measures.

He had been stupid to ever let this go so far. How could he have been so blind? He had thought and thought about what his father had said. He knew now. He loved Sara, as a friend. They were friends and lovers. Wasn't that the best kind of start for a lifetime relationship? He had questioned his feelings for her until he couldn't see them for what they truly were. He had been miserable before they had begun this screwed up ride, and he was miserable now, knowing that she had been out with Perrin. He had listened to the message she left him at least ten times, trying to find a hint of something to ease his fears. Every time he had listened, he had a different interpretation.

He took a deep breath and walked up to her door. She answered at the second knock. It took his breath away to see her again. He wanted to sweep her up in his arms. It was all he could do not to grab hold of her and never let go.

She was surprised to see him. It warmed his heart to see the happiness in her eyes when she first saw him. Then a familiar guarded shadow came over them. It was a shadow he hadn't seen in the last few months, but he had seen it plenty of times before then.

"Oh, Sara," he thought. "Please don't shut me out."

"Hey," is what he said.

"Hey. Good to see that you are alive and well," she said. She had made no moves to let him into the apartment. Not a good sign. She looked tired. She looked as tired as he must look. Nick decided to let it rip right there. He handed her the bouquet. Her eyes got big, and he thought there was a hint of shine from unfallen tears. She looked at him, confused.

"I wanted to apologize," he said.

"For what?"

"Where do I start?" He sighed and continued. "To begin with, for not treating you as you deserve. For rationalizing our relationship. For not talking to you about Perrin. For being too scared to do the right thing," he said. Her eyes were big now, but the guarded look was still on her face.

"Nick, I shouldn't have gone off the deep end like that ..." she began.

"Sara, I've got something to tell you, and I've got to get it out, or I may chicken out again."

"OK," Sara said slowly. Trepidation had made it through her guard.

"I have been miserable without you. Knowing that I couldn't even talk to you was the worst. I need you, Sara. I need to know that I never have to worry about whether or not I'll see you, because you'll be there. I love you. As a friend. As a lover. As you." Nick paused, wondering if he had been eloquent enough. He didn't think he could ever express the way he felt with words. He stepped up and took Sara's face in his hands and kissed her. They had shared a lot of kisses, but this was full of his new acknowledgement of his feelings for her. She stepped backwards from him, clutching the bouquet that had gotten partially crushed between them.

"Nick, I ..." Sara began, when Nick heard the last voice he had wanted to hear.

"Are you all right Sara?" a voice called from Sara's apartment. "Who's at the door?"

It was Ozzie. Nick could feel his heart break, right then. Funny, he thought it couldn't have hurt much more than it had after their fight on Thursday. Sara's eyes got wide. Nick knew he was too late. He turned and walked away.

"Nick!" Sara cried. He let it fall on deaf ears. He thought he would be sick. How was he going to make it today, and tomorrow, and the day after that? He knew one part of the answer. Without Sara.

She wanted to go after him, but there was Ozzie, standing in her kitchen, freshly showered, but his clothes rumpled, and his face unshaven. He had taken a drink of the coffee she had made and was making a face that he unsucessfully tried to hide when she turned around.

"What's wrong?" he immediately said. Then he saw the bouquet. "Who was that at the door?"

"Nick," she said. She turned to find a vase. She was fighting tears, and didn't want Ozzie to see.

"Nick brought you flowers?" he asked. Things were very clear to him now. "Some detective I am, asking Nick about you," he said, and chuckled. Sara wanted to throw the vase she had found at him. "Can I tell you something?" he asked. It was a soft voice. Sara turned to look at him. He had grabbed his suit jacket, and suddenly he looked every bit of his 53 years to Sara.

"What?" she said. Her voice sounded cold, and she knew she was doing her old standby, withdrawal. Part of her was urging her to move, to chase Nick. Another part wanted to cling to Ozzie, and wipe the image of Nick's hurt face from her mind. Instead she just stood, becoming cold, trying not to care. If she didn't care about Nick, he couldn't hurt her, right?

"I know I smile all the time. It freaks people out, especially inside interrogation," he said. Sara gave him a bewildered look. "Do you want to know why I smile a lot?"

"Sure," she said, though she was anything but.

"I am thinking of what Mahalia would have been saying about the situation," he said.

"Your second wife," Sara said. He nodded, and she saw that sad smile again.

"She was the love of my life, and she's with me every moment. It used to make me cry, but that wasn't how she would have wanted it. You remind me of her, a little. I guess that's what first caught my eye about you," he said. Sara wasn't sure how she felt about that. She didn't know if being second to a dead woman was a good place to be. Competition with a ghost was a losing situation. Almost as bad as competition with an all-consuming job. He walked up to her and gave her a kiss, sweet and slow. "I'll wait for you to decide what you want," he said, and then Sara knew it was a good-bye kiss. "If Stokes screws this up, just know that you are still my favorite CSI," he said. He was grinning as he walked out of her door.

She was late to swing shift. She met Warrick in the locker room.

"You're with me, Sidle," he said as she walked into the room. "Cath's already handed out assignments. I covered for you and said you had called to tell me you were going to be late," the last part of the comment trailed off when he looked at Sara's face. He had never seen her look quite so lost.

"I can't find Nick," she said. Warrick narrowed his eyes. "I've called his house, his cell, and I went by. He's not there," she continued. He could tell she had been crying.

"What happened?" Warrick asked. He had expected something, but not this.

"He came by the house this afternoon. With flowers, no less," she said with a bemused grimace. "Ozzie was there, and he took off. He's not answering his phone."

"Ozzie was there?" Warrick asked. That must have been a slap in the face to Nick.

"It's not what you think. But that's what Nick must have thought too," she said. Warrick thought her face crumpled a little when she said that, but she fought it off. Sara was not a person who cried easily. When she did cry, it sometimes seemed defiant, like she would dare you to ask her about it.

"I'll call Brass and tell him we will be a little late to the crime scene," Warrick offered. "We'll look in all the usual places."

Sara gave a little nod, and then did something that neither of them expected. She crossed the distance between them with quick steps and gave him a hug.

"Thank you," she said, in a voice that was almost a whisper.

"Hey, you're not the only one that loves him," Warrick said, trying to laugh it off. "It's just that I don't want to see him naked."

Warrick called Brass.

"Jim, we might be a little later getting to the crime scene. If you need to be somewhere, we'll call when we're on our way. You could leave an officer there. Tell Super-Dave to have the body for us to do trace at the morgue."

"Hey, this guy's not going anywhere. We already have the most likely suspect, so your evidence will be icing on the cake." Brass paused a minute, and asked, "This wouldn't be in relation to Nick, would it?"

"Why do you ask?" Warrick said. Did Jim know everything?

"I saw him in passing an hour ago. At the range. You got Sara with you?" he asked.

"Yeah," Warrick said, giving Sara a glance. She was looking at him with quizzical eyes.

"Well, make them get this shit worked out. It's making everyone crazy," Brass growled. Warrick had to laugh.

"That's what I'm trying to do," he said. He turned to Sara, who was looking out the window.

"I'm dropping you at the range," he said. Her head snapped around. How did Warrick know about the range?

"What?"

"Brass saw Nick at the range. So, I'm dropping you there. If he won't give you a ride back, or if you don't want to ride back with him, call me."

"What do I say?" Sara asked.

"You tell him the truth, whatever that may be," he replied. It sounded simple, but simple did not mean easy.

"What is he doing at the range?" she asked, under her breath.

"What do you do at the range?" Warrick said. She gave him a surprised look, and he smiled devilishly at her. He was still smiling when he dropped her at the range. The smile hid his worry that they wouldn't work this out.

She saw Nick in the booth. He looked tense. He looked like a badass. She wondered if she looked that tough when she was shooting. She wondered if he was picturing her or Ozzie. She doubted it was either; Nick was too much of a gentleman. She saw that he had enough ammo to be there a while, so when he stopped to reload, she knocked on the booth window.

Nick saw her there and almost dropped his gun. She looked like she had been crying. He took a little pleasure in that, and then regretted it. He worked hard not to let the baser of his instincts get the better of him since being buried. It told him how much he had changed to know that he had to fight himself on these small things.

He opened the door and let her come into the booth.

"You have your cell turned off," she said. It sounded accusatory.

"I didn't want to hear it," he said back. "I don't want to hear the excuses. From me or from you."

It was stupid of them to think that they could have started this, and then some day stop with no repercussions. Sara knew that there was no going back to the way they were; there was only moving forward. She had amazed herself in that she wanted to move forward, with Nick. For once in her life, she wanted the person that wanted her. His confession at her door hadn't scared her away. She could admit that the whole time she was with Ozzie, she kept thinking of Nick.

"We were crazy to think that our rules would work," she said. Nick blew out a breathe of air. If he could get up the nerve, he would kiss her, like he had at her door, before he heard Ozzie. He knew that kiss had affected her.

"I broke them allthe time," he confessed. He wondered where they would go from here. He didn't think Sara looked like she was aching for him to give her another kiss.

"Me too," Sara said. "You never let me finish apologizing."

"You have nothing to apologize for," he said brusquely.

"Goddammit, Nick! Let me talk," Sara said through her teeth. She had to say this now, before her usual defenses pushed forward. Nick looked at her withbig eyes. He didn't say anything else.

"I'm sorry that I flew off the handle with you. I'm sorry that Ozzie was there today, though it wasn't what you think, but I'm not sorry for anything else, because then I wouldn't be doing this." With that said, she walked forward and kissed him, trying to match the feeling he had given her earlier. When their lips parted, Nick couldn't help the words that came out of his mouth.

"I'm broken," he murmured against Sara's lips. She leaned back and looked at him. "I can't be fixed," he said. That was what really scared him; that he would never be right again. That he would never deserve her.

"So am I. Maybe we're both so broken that the only way to be whole is together," she said. "I love you, as a friend, as a lover. As you." They stood in an embrace for a few moments, and Sara felt something she rarely felt in her life: safe. She knew this was it. She could feel his heart beat through their clothes and the warmth of his body against hers. She could be safe with Nick, and she wanted to keep him safe in return.

"So, I heard you went out with the new detective. Did it go well?" Nick asked, a teasing grin on his face. She rolled her eyes at him. How easy was this, to slip into that banter they had?

"Oh yeah, except that I kept thinking about this hot criminalist I know," she said. He kissed her again.

"When's your next night off?" he asked. She asked why he wanted to know. "I was wondering if you would like to go out with me." Nick said, almost bashfully.

"Let me check my calendar," Sara said with a smile.

When Nick pulled up at the crime scene, Brass handed Warrick a twenty.

"Call me a hopeless romantic," Jim said. "But I didn't think she would show back up during the shift."

"They might be together, finally, but she is still Sara, hardcore CSI," Warrick teased. "Double or nothing Nicky doesn't leave once she's dropped off."

"You're on. Now that she's here, I don't think Sara will let him stay," Jim said. The two sat back and watched as Nick opened the door for Sara. They appeared to have a discussion that became a bit heated, though it was hard to tell since the vehicle partially obscured their view. Then Nick pulled Sara into an embrace that might have been better saved for some where other than a crime scene. She gave in for a moment, then pushed him away. She ambled up while Nick got back into his SUV and pulled off.

Warrick laughed, and handed Jim his twenty back, plus another. Sara eyed them suspiciously.

"What was that about?" she demanded.

"You don't want to know," the two said in unison

"So what do you need me to do?" Sara asked Warrick.

"Get in the truck. We're done here. I was just waiting on you," he said. They said their good-byes to Jim, who gave Sara a wink.

"Talk," Warrick said once they were in the Denali. Sara gave him a cool look.

"About what?" she said nonchalantly. Warrick gave her a disbelieving look, and she broke out into a gap-toothed smile, giggling uncharacteristically.

"Tell it, or I swear to God, I will tell everyone that you and Hodges are going out," he said.

"No one would believe you," she countered.

"Archie owes me, and you wouldn't believe the stuff you can come up with using the A/V lab," Warrick threatened.

"We are together. He's mine and I'm his," she said, giving in, though it felt good to say it. "No rules, no arrangements. We're going to officially date. He's going to tell Catherine tomorrow night, and I'm going to tell Grissom tonight."

"That sounds serious," Warrick said. "It sounds like you two got things straightened out."

"Yeah, it does," Sara said. She sounded apprehensive. "Telling the bosses makes it very serious, doesn't it?" She wondered how Grissomwould take it. Then she figured she really didn't care.

"Are you regretting it?" Warrick asked, a little worried at her tone.

"Nope," Sara said quickly. She smiled at Warrick. "And Nick better make sure that I never do," she teased. "The crazy idea of telling me that he loves me."

Sara let her date lead her out onto the dance floor. The club was nice, dark and intimate, and the jazzy music had been a pleasant surprise. She was thankful that she had thought not to wear tall heels, because she had never been the most confident dancer. She remembered that a certain someone had once told her that it was all in following the lead, and she relaxed. She let her partner lead her, their bodies moving as one, without input from her brain.

That was a good thing in and of itself, because at this moment, between the wonderful meal, the red wine, and the music, she was having a hard time getting anything but incomplete thoughts out of that mass of tissue between her ears. None of it had anything to do with the feel of her dance partner's strong arms around her, not at all. His breath in her ear was sending luscious shivers through her body, and she was more than comfortable pressed up against him. She closed her eyes and let herself float on the dance floor with him, inhaling his fragrance. She felt his head dip down and his lips brushed hers with a familiarity that was at once comforting and exciting. She knew precisely what those lips could do, and the promise they gave for the end of the evening. She opened her eyes, and looked into his. She loved those expressive eyes; eyes that were the color of lightest chocolate, with flecks of amber honey around the pupil.

"Not bad for a first date, wouldn't you say?" he asked her. He smiled, and she wanted to keep him smiling like that forever. She knew she couldn't, but what was the harm in trying?

"You never told me you could dance," she said. His smile grew even bigger.

"You never asked, but you of all people should know that I move with suave grace," he teased.

She did know, and it was making her crazy to think of it now. They hadn't been together all week. Nick wanted to make a "fresh" start, and Sara had to content herself with talking to him on the phone or leaving him at the diner. She would go home and run or clean or a hundred things to keep her mind off him. Finally, she was here in his arms. She pressed herself a little closer to him and he kissed the side of her neck.

"So, are you ready to blow this popsicle stand?" she asked.

"I thought you'd never ask," he said, grinning. They almost ran to the car. Nick's house was closest. They entered his house in a fumble of bodies,limbs and mouths coming together furiously, leaving a trail of clothing in their wake.

She was stretched across his bed, watchingas a shy smile spread across his face. All the times together, and he was being shy?

"What?" she asked. She sat up and trailed her fingers down his chest and torso.

"I love you," he said, and kissed her, his mouth making its way from hers to her chin, her neck, her shoulder.

They jumped when both their pagers alarmed. Nick grabbed his from the floor as Sara scrambled to find hers in the living room.

"All members on deck? This is horseshit! Pecker necks," Nick said. He picked up his boxers and started putting them on.

"Hell no, Stokes," Sara said, pulling the underwear and pager from his hands. "We'll show up, but you owe me some unfinished business first." With that, she pulled him down with her to his bed.

They showed up to the crime scene, finally. Sara had changed into a CSI jumpsuit at Nick's. Nick was still looking fine, though he had changed into jeans and a striped button down shirt. When they parked, he leaned over and kissed her. Thank God for tinted windows, because the kiss got pretty steamy. They hadn't been able to take as much time as they would have liked, especially after over a week of being without.

"When this is over, are you coming back to my place?" he asked.

"Like there is anyway I can say no after that kiss," she replied.

"Good, because I've got a shelf in the bathroom, a drawer in the dresser, and a space in the closet all cleaned out for you," he said. "We'll start there, if you'd like."

"And then what?" she asked.

"You tell me, when you're ready. I've got the rest of my life," he said.

Warrick and Brass were watching from theentranceof the parking garage, now a crime scene.

"Twenty says they take at least 5 more minutes to even get out of the SUV," Brass said.

"I'll take that. They don't want to embarrass themselves," Warrick said. "Especially after Grissom walked up on them kissing in the parking lot of the lab."

Both men chuckled.

"So, where is Ozzie? This might get a little tense," Warrick asked.

"Last I saw, he was chatting Catherine up while she worked on the basement stairs," Brass said. "That could be a good match."

Warrick nodded, mutely, wondering if he agreed.

"Let's go in before the lovebirds notice we've been watching," Brass said. Sara and Nick were getting their kits out of the back of his Denali. "By my watch, that was 5 minutes, 20 seconds."

"Bullshit. 4 minutes, 30 seconds, tops," Warrick argued. The men continued their banter into the crime scene.

Nick and Sara stepped apart and headed into the house. They shared a quiet look before stepping under the crime scene tape. No matter what the night held, they would make it through.

"Hey, no regrets," he said. She smiled.

"I already regret," she answered. He looked at her in alarm. "I regret changing the batteries in my pager," she reassured him.

"What if I make it up to you later?"

"You will. I promise." Sara paused as she felt Nick's hand around her arm.

"Hey, Sar. Why didn't you pick Ozzie?" he asked. She turned and looked at him. How long had he wanted to ask that question?

"He wasn't you," she said, as if that was all that mattered. It was good enough for Nick. It had to be. He wondered if they would stay this way. He had to have faith that they would. He had one last question for Sara before they started the evidence collection.

"How do you feel about Thanksgiving in Dallas?"

* * *

A/N: The End. I intended from the beginning to have the two together, though I am glad some of you were rooting for Ozzie by the end. That means his character came together as I wanted it to. Sometimes in love, there are no bad guys, just good guys. That's what makes things harder. Thanks for all the reviews! 

Anushka: Hope the presentation went well. I also hope you enjoyed the last two chapters. I am a sucker for happy endings in fiction, though I seriously toyed with having Sara and Ozzie together and Nick left out in the cold. I figured the Snickers contingent would hunt me down. The secret to quick updates is to be almost finished before you start posting. At least, that's how I did it. Thanks for all your lovely comments!

DarkDreamer56: I am glad the Cisco/Pancho relationship came off as I wanted it. I didn't know if the backstory was too much like filler. Anyway, I thought it was a good way for Nick to understand his feelings better.

FoxRox1: You're so hard on our Nicky! But he does deserve it, somewhat. Anyhow, I think by the time you are Nick's age, you might be jaded enough about love to ignore what it really is. What I have found is that so much of love at first sight fades and has to be replaced with feelings that are harder to define, but much stronger. I totally think Sara would almost have to be hit over the head to feel real love, because she is so defensive, emotionally. I hope you didn't think this last chapter was trite - I tried to make it believable. I would love to see your comments on some of my other stories, though they are not all S/N.

bomber6, Veronica10 and Clazziquai: Is your sweet tooth satisfied? Even a little?

Mayme: No tears! And believe me, Ozzie is strong enough to keep going after this. I may do another story with him. I haven't decided.

A Christy: Maybe now you won't hate Ozzie so badly. Thanks for all the comments!

Forensicsfan: Was that Snickery enough?

Jacinda: Thanks for all of your reviews. I hope the ending satisfied - I may use Ozzie again, but I'm not sure how.


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